Let's Make Every Moment Count
by HoppyToad
Summary: It's taken until senior year for Santana to figure out what Brittany's known for years. That sometimes it's the little moments that mean everything, that's when you fall even more in love – Various Brittana moments set during season 3
1. The Purple Piano Project

**_"I've been pretty quiet til now, but some things are gettin' left out."_**

**_ - Nick Massi, Jersey Boys_**

* * *

><p>Santana has always hated that first day back at school after the summer break, always dreaded having to walk through those doors once more. Once they've pulled up in the parking lot, she leaves the engine running, her eyes fixed on the building, on the students slowly making their way inside. A couple of them actually look less thrilled to be here than she is. She wonders if Brittany would agree to skipping today instead, taking off, finding somewhere they could just hide away for the day, far away from everything and everyone. The worried glances that Brittany has been shooting in her direction since she picked her up would suggest that she probably would. Of course they'd just be back here tomorrow morning, and she knows then it'd only be harder to force herself to walk inside.<p>

Brittany hasn't said anything since they'd reached McKinley, but now she shifts in the passenger seat, turning to face her. "So, senior year, huh?"

"Yeah, senior year." Somehow up until this point, she'd managed to convince herself that it was all just like old times, picking Brittany up, laughing and singing along to the radio but now they're actually sitting outside, that illusion has shattered and she suddenly doesn't know how to do this.

She can feel Brittany's eyes on her, knows she's waiting for something, she just isn't sure what. She hadn't thought it was possible for things between them to become even more confusing after New York, yet this summer has only gone to prove her wrong. And now she's been left with no clue what it is they're doing, where they're going. She doesn't always mind that though. Sometimes the lack of pressure is nice. She's just not sure how long until Brittany gets tired of all this and starts pushing again, and that will be when they have a problem.

"San..."

"Don't." She isn't even sure what Brittany was going to say, but she is sure she doesn't want to hear it right now. She doesn't want Brittany to say something that will change everything, she isn't ready for that. She doesn't even dare look at her, knowing that's all it will take to break her resolve, for her heart to trick her into thinking she might have a chance this year, a chance with Brittany, a chance to just be herself, no matter how much her brain might scream the opposite, and she just can't handle that. Not yet. She has a plan though. A good plan. A smart plan. Of course she hasn't actually let Brittany in on that plan yet, something she thinks she might want to take care of right now, while she can. "I'm going to rejoin the Cheerios."

She risks a glance over at Brittany now and immediately regrets it when she sees nothing but hurt in her eyes. Brittany stares at her for a moment, then says, "She wanted to shoot me out of a cannon."

Santana quickly looks away, staring out of the driver's window. She hasn't forgotten that, it's been the source of many a nightmare in fact. "I wasn't asking you to come back."

"You don't have to ask, Santana. I thought you'd have known that by now."

There's disappointment in Brittany's voice, something she's heard far too much of lately. She'd hoped that Brittany would come with her, of course she had, but she definitely hadn't planned on asking her to. She's Santana Lopez and she doesn't ask anyone for anything. She'd learned at an early age that that way she can't be disappointed when they inevitability say no.

"What's the big deal? Why does it even matter if you're a cheerleader or not?"

"It just does." She's not sure how to explain it, can't bring herself to tell Brittany that despite everything, nothing has really changed since last year, no matter how much they both wish it had. "It just does."

Brittany doesn't say anything, just stares out the windshield. After a moment though, she reaches across the seat and takes hold of Santana's hand. "Then okay. We rejoin the Cheerios. But can we make sure that Coach Sylvester isn't going to try and kill either of us this year first?"

She's already thought of that. "I'll make it a condition of us coming back. She'll be so desperate to have us save her crappy squad from losing at Nationals again, she'll agree to anything." She brings Brittany's hand to her lips and places a soft kiss against her knuckles, for once managing to ignore the warning bells that are sounding in her head, the ones that tell her that they're in public, that people can see. "Thanks, Britt." She knows that Brittany doesn't understand why this is so important to her, but the fact that Brittany will follow her anyway, means everything to her right now.

"What about Quinn?"

She frowns. "What about Quinn?"

"Don't we need her too?"

Santana thinks it's highly unlikely that Quinn Fabray would ever rejoin the Cheerios, not judging by the way she'd looked last week when they'd run into her outside a convenience store. "I don't think Coach would let her join, not until she's over her Lindsay Lohan phase anyway. Besides we won Nationals Sophomore year without her. She ain't all that."

"We did have Kurt then though."

She has a point and Santana briefly wonders if maybe they could convince Hummel to join again this year. He could probably use the street cred now that he's back at McKinley. It does seem like a lot of hassle though. "We don't need either of them. We've got you and nobody's got moves like you, Britt."

"That is true." Brittany grins at her, and Santana has to fight to keep from melting right there in her seat.

"See, we got this."

"Yeah, we do." She's missed this, when being around Brittany felt like the most natural thing in the world. She still can't quite believe she's been able to get that back.

"San?"

"Yeah?"

Brittany doesn't look quite as convinced as she is that this is a good idea though. "If Coach does let us back on the squad..."

"_When _Coach lets us back on the squad."

"When Coach lets us back on the squad, things aren't just going to go back to how they were last year, are they?"

Seeing as last year was possibly the worst year of her life so far, Santana hopes not, but she knows the danger of making promises to Brittany that she can't keep. "B, I'm trying, okay? I'm trying." Anything else is too much right now and she hopes that Brittany can understand that. She guesses she must do because she leans across and presses a quick kiss to Santana's cheek. "What was that for?"

Brittany shrugs. "Being you."

She doesn't know what to say to that, she is pretty sure she's blushing, though she just hopes Brittany hasn't noticed that she's left her tongue tied. Again. The slight smile tugging at the corner of Brittany's mouth would suggest otherwise though. "So, senior year, huh?"

"Yeah, senior year." She glances down at their still joined hands and thinks maybe it just might be their year afterall. "Bring it on, Britt, bring it on."

* * *

><p>Quinn had just assumed that they would have given up after the last attempt at trying to talk some sense into her. So she's more than a little surprised when Santana shows up under the bleachers again. "You just can't stay away, can you?"<p>

"Can we talk?" Santana gestures at the rest of the Skanks. "In private?"

She almost tells her to go to hell, but something about the way Santana wraps her arms around herself, bites down on her bottom lip slightly, stops her and she sighs, climbing to her feet and leading Santana round towards the front of the bleachers. She starts making her way up the steps, heading for the opposite end where her new friends won't overhear them, leaving Santana to trail after her. It brings back memories of freshman year, back when Santana acted as her right hand man, followed her without question. Sometimes she misses those days. Sometimes she doesn't. Once she reaches the top, she sits down and just stares at Santana. She doesn't plan on making this easy for her, whatever this is.

Santana stays standing, her hands now shoved in her pockets. "I need a favor."

She had been expecting another lecture, another heartfelt speech, well as heartfelt as Santana is capable of, but she hadn't been expecting this. "What kind of favor?"

"The kind that involves arson."

That little voice in the back of Quinn's head is telling her to walk away, that she wants nothing to do with whatever it is Santana's planning, that it can't be anything good. However she's gotten very good at ignoring that voice lately. "And what exactly are we burning down?"

Santana drops her eyes to the floor. "Coach Sylvester wants all the Glee club's stupid purple pianos destroyed. Becky's already taken one out with that food fight. Now I have to step up and do the next."

"What happened to Glee club being the best part of your day?" She can't keep the sneer out of her voice.

It does make Santana look up though, and Quinn finds herself on the end of a Lopez death glare. "I don't have a fucking choice, Q. I need the Cheerios this year." She moves to towards Quinn, sinking down onto the bench beside her. "It's part of the plan, Glee club isn't."

She wants to ask what plan this is, but something tells her that she won't get an answer, maybe she no longer has the right to even ask. Despite that moment between them in that hotel room in New York, they're not exactly friends anymore. "Why are you asking me?"

Santana shrugs. "I can't ask Brittany. I won't make her choose between Glee and Cheerios. I won't do that to her again. And who else am I gonna ask?"

She's never seen Santana look so miserable. Normally this is just the kind of destruction that Santana revels in, usually she's reeking havoc just because she can. She isn't sure how to take this new Santana. She wonders if maybe she isn't the only one who's changed this summer.

"I wasn't the only one who dropped off the face of the earth for a while this summer, was I?"

Santana looks up at her, frowns. "What are you talking about?"

She pauses, not sure what she even hopes to achieve by bringing it up, but as much as she hates to admit it, it's been eating away at her. "After New York, I thought that maybe, I don't know, that maybe it could be like old times. You, me and Brittany just hanging out like we used to. So I went over to your house."

Santana tenses at that information. "When?"

"Second week of the summer vacation. But your mom told me that she didn't know where you were. That you'd taken off, just left them a note to say you needed some time away from Lima." She swears Santana is holding her breath. "Whatever had happened, you had her really concerned about you."

Santana laughs, but it's hollow. "Yeah, right, I'm sure she was just beside herself with worry."

She decides to let that go, has no desire to compare notes on poor mother figures, even if she knows for a fact she'd win that one hands down. "So anyway, I texted Brittany to ask her what was going on, because we're friends, right? The three of us? And I get a reply that just said, she's fine, Quinn, just leave it. And so I did. Whatever was going on, you clearly didn't need me. So you know what, I didn't need you two either. I was just fine on my own. Still am. I don't need any of you."

She expects Santana to call her out on her bullshit, it's what they do for each, what they've always done, and she's more disappointed than she likes when Santana doesn't rise to the bait. Instead it's just met with heavy silence and she has no intention of being the one to break it, instead she keeps her eyes on the empty field in front of them.

"She didn't tell me." Santana still has her eyes on the ground. "Brittany. She didn't tell me. About the text."

"Would it have made a difference if she had?"

Santana is silent for a moment, as if she's thinking about her answer. Eventually she looks up at Quinn. "Honestly?"

Quinn nods.

"Probably not."

She's tempted again to ask just what went on over the summer, but she has a feeling Santana will only refuse to answer. "It's just, you turn up like this whenever you want something. I'm sick of it."

"Then I should go. I've got better things to do than waste my time asking you for help." She jumps to her feet and starts to walk away, but Quinn reaches out and grabs her arm to stop her. Santana quickly breaks out of her grip, but she does stop. "I didn't say I wouldn't help. I'm just saying I'm not doing this for you, I don't owe you anything. Just as long as we're clear on that."

"Yeah, we're more than clear on that." They stare each other down for a moment, then Santana just says, "I'll let you know the plan once I've come up with it then, okay?"

"Okay."

Santana offers a tight smile and then heads down the bleachers. She stops a few steps down though and turns back. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." She doesn't elaborate on that, but she doesn't need to.

"Me too."

Santana nods and starts to leave, but Quinn can't stop from shouting after her. "Hey, Santana?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever was going on with you, is everything okay now?" She wishes she didn't care, could just cut them all out of her life, but some part of her still refuses to let go, tells her she can't be happy living like this.

Santana stares at her for a moment, and Quinn can't read the look in her eyes. "I think I'm doing a hell of a lot better than you are right now."

She takes that as a no. She suspected as much from the fact that Santana is even here asking for her help in the first place, but they're not friends, not any more, so she just nods and lets her walk away.

* * *

><p>Brittany's thankful to find Santana's car still in the parking lot after Glee practice has finished. Santana is her ride home, but she had half expected her to have left her stranded here after Mr Shue had thrown her out of Glee club. When she realises Santana isn't waiting in her car, she turns around and heads back into the school. It doesn't take her long to track her down. She finds her in the choir room, sitting at the piano, her hands running absently over the keys. It should surprise her, seeing that she was only kicked out of this very room a couple of hours ago, but it doesn't.<p>

She stays in the doorway, not sure if she should be interrupting. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine." Santana doesn't even look up.

Brittany takes a step closer to her, but then stops, unsure of what she's allowed to do in this scenario. What she wants to do is walk over to her, wrap her arms around her and never let go, but that's exactly the kind of thing that will still sometimes freak Santana out, and that's when she pushes her away and then it's two steps forward, three steps back all over again. As much as she loves dancing with Santana, that's one dance she's grown tired of.

"I knew he'd be disappointed in me, I just didn't expect him to kick me out over it. We've done worse. God, we were spying for Coach Sylvester for most of Sophomore year and he did nothing about that. Why get tough now?"

Brittany shrugs. It doesn't make any more sense to her than to Santana. "Maybe he's finally growing a pair?"

That earns her a raised eyebrow but it doesn't make Santana laugh as she'd been hoping it would.

She enters the room, walking over to join her, and leans against the piano. "I wasn't sure what to do, when you left. I wanted to come straight after you but..."

"B, no, this was my thing. You love Glee club, I knew you wouldn't want to hurt them or those stupid pianos."

"I would still have helped you. You know that right?"

"I know. That's why I didn't ask."

She wishes she had asked, or that maybe she'd talked Santana out of it. She knows she could have done so, getting Santana to do things she doesn't want to is like her superpower or something, well some things. It's just she's been trying really hard not to abuse that power lately, to try and remember that whole 'With great power comes great responsibility' thing that Spiderman's so big on. "So now what?"

"So now nothing. It's no big deal. Not like Glee Club was gonna be much help to me this year anyway, right?"

Brittany's pretty sure Santana doesn't actually believe that any more than she does, if it was true then she wouldn't be sat here in this room, but she knows enough to not point that out right now. She just adds it to that really long list in her head that's titled 'Lies Santana needs to believe in order to function.'

"How did you get Quinn to help you?"

She doesn't miss the fact that Santana tenses slightly. "I guess we can just add pyromania to Quinn's latest issues."

"Wait, what does her love of pyramids have to do with it?"

"Fire, Britt, fire."

"Oh."

Santana sighs, rubs at her forehead. "I think it's partly my fault."

She doesn't think that Santana's talking about the piano now, but she knows that if she waits Santana will explain herself.

"Do you remember Quinn texting you this summer?"

The question throws her, she avoids thinking about the summer as much as she can, those early weeks are still something of a blur. "Maybe." She does, vaguely, but at the time, it hadn't seemed important and she's not sure why it suddenly would be now.

"She mentioned it today, that's all."

"Should I have told you?" She doesn't think it would have done any good if she had. Besides she had at least replied to Quinn, let her know not to worry, so that has to count for something, right?

"I thought we told each other everything?"

"I thought we didn't do that any more?" She can't help the slight hint of bitterness that seeps into her voice, but it's senior year and nothing has changed. She's just not sure either of them are going to be able to keep the promises they'd made over the summer.

"I'm worried about her. She needed us, and we were too wrapped up in my problems, in us, that we weren't there to have her back like we should have been."

She thinks Quinn's issues started long before this summer, long before she choose to dye her hair pink and make a new circle of friends. "It's not our fault. You've tried talking to her. And we'll try again, but none of this is on us."

"It feels like it is. We're the Unholy Trinity, or supposed to be. You, me and Quinn. Isn't that how it's supposed to be?"

She wants to shout no, that it isn't, that's it always supposed to have just been the two of them, that somehow Quinn got mixed into the equation at some point, but that she never belonged there. Sometimes she thinks it's Quinn's presence that has stopped them from being where they're supposed to be, and maybe she resents Quinn a little bit because of that, but once again these are the kind of things she doesn't dare say, that she can't say while they're trapped in this limbo they've been in since New York. Instead she just shrugs.

There's silence for a moment, until Brittany can't hold the words inside any longer. "I'm not leaving Glee club."

Santana's head snaps up at that. "I didn't expect you to."

Brittany drops her eyes on the floor, but she looks back up when she feels Santana take hold of her hand..

"Britt, did you really think I'd want you to do that?"

She doesn't know, doesn't feel like she knows anything any more, she's no longer able to predict what Santana's going to do, what she's going to want, and that scares her.

"Brittany, I..."

She doesn't let Santana get any further, instead just leans forward and presses their lips together. Santana's still for a moment, but is soon kissing her back, wrapping the hand that isn't currently in Brittany's around her waist and pulling her closer.

They soon break apart though, and Brittany doesn't miss the fact that Santana's eyes dart over to the door, that familiar panic visible in her eyes. She doesn't let go of her hand though, in fact Brittany is sure her grip even tightens as she stares up at her, her eyes dark. "Can we get out of here?"

Brittany barely has time to nod before Santana is on her feet and practically dragging her out the door.


	2. I Am Unicorn

Brittany's not sure what wakes her. She's still in that fuzzy place between the dream and waking worlds, so she hopes that if she keeps her eyes shut maybe she can just drift back to sleep, but when she stretches an arm out across the bed to find the other side cold and empty, they snap open and she sits up.

It shouldn't still surprise her when Santana does this, she's done it enough times since the summer, always waits for her to fall asleep and then leaves as if afraid of what will happen if they wake up together, as if that would make this all too real. It shouldn't surprise her, but it still does, every single time, and every single time it feels like she's being stabbed in the gut.

It's still pitch black outside so she knows it's late, or early, she isn't really sure, and it takes a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dark. When they do, she notices that Santana hasn't actually left after all. She's sitting at the window, which she has thrown open, her eyes closed, leaning back against the frame, one leg hanging outside, the other resting on the window-ledge, knee pulled up to her chest. She seems to have claimed one of Brittany's hoodies rather than putting any of her own clothes back on, and starts something inside her that she can't quite place, the same feeling she always gets when Santana wears her clothes.

She wonders if she does this every time, sitting awake in her room for hours before she sneaks away. She'd always just assumed that Santana was out the door the minute she'd fallen asleep, but watching her now, she realises this is just another battle that Santana has to fight every night. The urge to stay versus her need to run. She might always be on the losing side of that fight, but it means everything to her that Santana is keeping her promise of at least trying.

Santana doesn't seem to have noticed that she's awake, so she quietly fishes around on the floor at the side of the bed, searching until she finds her tank top in the pile of discarded clothes. She pulls it on over her head, and then slips out of the bed, carefully making her way over to Santana and places a hand on her shoulder.

Santana jumps at the contact and jerks forward, losing her balance and falling sideways towards the open window. Luckily Brittany has always had awesome reflexes and she's able to wrap both her arms around her, one around her waist, the other across her chest, and she holds her steady.

"Jesus, Britt."

She can feel Santana's heart pounding, can tell her breathing has increased, so she tightens her grip.

"I swear you're like a fucking ninja or something. Next time try making some noise so a girl has a bit of warning when you're sneaking up on her, will ya?"

"But where's the fun in that?" She nudges her to move forward so she can sit behind her, both arms now securely around her waist, and she pulls Santana so she's pressed against her. She presses her lips against Santana's neck, once, twice. Santana shivers and she's fairly sure it isn't from the cold.

"Well where's the fun in having to explain to your parents how I ended up falling out your window at god knows what time in the morning?"

"I wouldn't have let you fall." Another kiss, this time she nips at the skin slightly. "And anyway, not like it'd be the first time."

"Okay, first of all, last time I fell climbing _in_ your window, I didn't fall _out _of it."

Brittany doesn't really see the difference, but decides not to argue, instead just keeps kissing her neck, Santana tilting her head to give her better access.

"And secondly..." Her words trail off when Brittany moves a hand lower, slipping underneath material in search of bare skin. "And secondly..."

"And secondly?" She mumbles the words against her neck.

She hears Santana's breath catch. "And secondly, something I can't seem to remember while you're doing that."

She stills, though she keeps her hands where they are. "You want me to stop?"

"God no."

Brittany is about to continue when she notices the cigarette in Santana's hand and she pulls away. "I thought you weren't going to smoke any more?"

Santana glances from the cigarette then back at her, guilt in her eyes. "It isn't lit." She seems to realise that the fact that she's holding a lighter in her other hand doesn't exactly help her case here, and closes her fist around it. "Fine, okay." She holds the cigarette up to Brittany and then flicks it out of the window. "It's gone. Happy?"

Brittany frowns. "I think that counts as littering."

"I think it's a waste of a good cigarette." Santana leans forward slightly, peering down into the darkness below them, and Brittany wonders if she's considering climbing down after it. She keeps a tight grip on her just in case. Instead Santana sighs and leans back against her, resting her hands on top of hers. "I have to go see Ms Pillsbury tomorrow."

"Why?" She can feel worry setting in. Santana never reacts well to people trying to force her to talk about her emotions, she learned that the hard way.

"Apparently vandalism of school property doesn't go down too well."

Maybe they should have expected some comeback from torching that piano other than Mr Schue kicking Santana out of Glee club, but usually Coach Sylvester protects them from any punishment. "I thought you frightened her so much last time, she wouldn't let you in her office any more?"

"So did I. Guess I'm losing my touch."

She somehow doubts that. "Maybe you should take the lighter. If you sit and play with it, maybe she'll get scared you'll burn her office down and let you leave."

"That's not a bad idea, not bad at all."

It isn't but she hadn't meant for it to be taken as a serious suggestion. She hesitates before making another one. "Or maybe, I dunno, maybe talking to her wouldn't be such a bad idea either." She feels Santana tense in her arms and knows instantly she's made a mistake.

"I can't, you know that I can't."

"Okay, okay." She peppers Santana's neck and jaw with soft gentle kisses until she feels her start to relax against her.

It must have turned colder outside as she shudders as a breeze hits her. Santana turns to look at her, gently reaching a hand back to cup her face, the other remains pressed against the two of hers that are resting on her stomach. "Shit, B, you're freezing."

She hadn't even noticed until now, but now she has she can't seem to stop shaking.

Santana leans to the side and pulls the window closed. She takes hold of Brittany's hands and Brittany finds herself being pulled back towards the bed, where Santana sits her down on the edge.. "Might help if you'd put some clothes on."

"I would have but someone's stolen my favorite hoodie." She reaches out and gives a pointed tug on the hem.

She can't make out Santana's features fully, but she just knows that would have earned her an eye roll. "You have other clothes. Brittany." Santana crosses over to her dresser and starts searching through the drawer. "Besides it looks better on me."

"Would look even better off you."

Santana freezes and slowly turns to face her. "Tell me you didn't just say that. Because that's just..."

"True?"

"I was gonna go with lame, but you know, you have a point. I am really hot."

"You are really, really hot." She allows her eyes to roam over Santana's body, taking her in.

Santana is now walking back towards her, the hunt for clothes abandoned . Brittany finds herself being pushed onto her back, Santana wasting no time in straddling her.

"What happened to needing clothes?"

"I've suddenly thought of better ways to keep you warm, and none of them involve clothes."

Santana is leaning down to kiss her, but Brittany places her hands on her shoulders and gently stops her. Questioning brown eyes meet hers. "Will you stay with me? I know I said I wouldn't push, and I know how hard you're trying, but just for tonight, will you stay with me? I'm not asking for more than that. I just...I need you to be here when I wake up. Even if it's just this once."

Santana holds her gaze, and she knows she's thinking carefully about this. Both of them have said they won't make promises they can't keep. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

There aren't any words she can say to explain how much this means to her. She always has been better with actions anyway, so she simply slides an arm around Santana's back and pulls her down to her so she can show her instead.

* * *

><p>As a rule, Emma makes a point of having as little contact with Santana Lopez as possible. If she's honest the girl terrifies her, always has done. She only has to fix her with that stare and she looses the ability to speak, or at least to form coherent words. She thinks it's because Santana reminds her so much of those girls that had made her life a living hell back when she was in high school. They'd also been cheerleaders with vicious tongues, and sometimes it only takes the smallest of snide comments from Santana and she finds herself having flashbacks.<p>

When Will had asked her yesterday if she'd talk to Santana about the incident with the purple piano, she'd at first refused point blank to get involved, Santana has been sent to her office on many occasions over the past three years, not as many as she's no doubt been summoned to see Principle Figgins, but it's still an impressive number all the same.

The problem is that every session always turns out the same. Any questions she dares ask are always met with an exaggerated eyeroll, followed by stony silence. Then the two of them sit in silence, her watching Santana filing her nails, until she can't handle any more and gives permission for her to leave.

So far today isn't looking like it's going to end any differently, but Will has asked her to at least try, so try she will. "So how's everything at home?" She knows very little about Santana's home life so thinks it's a good place to start.

At the very least it doesn't result in an eyeroll, though she does find herself on the receiving end of an incredulous stare. "Really? You're really going to do this? Because I thought we had an understanding that in these little chats of ours, you don't ask me any questions then I don't have to refuse to answer them. Wasn't that the deal we had?"

She's fairly certain that she's never made any such deal. "Santana, you set fire to a piano last week. That could be taken as a warning sign of you being a socio-path."

"Okay, technically I didn't start the fire, Quinn Fabray did. Maybe it's her you need to be having this conversation with."

She has a point about Quinn, but she'll work on one problem at a time. "It was you that added the gasoline though, correct?" All that gets her is a shrug. "Santana, you're lucky you weren't suspended over this."

Her comment is dismissed with a wave of a hand. "Oh please. Like Coach Sylvester would have let that happen."

Of course she's right on that, Sue would have stepped in to protect her girls from any fallout from this, Cheerios gives them that protection, which suddenly has her wondering something. "You quit the Cheerios last year, didn't you?."

"So?"

"What made you decide to go back?"

Santana just stares at her, for what feels like minutes, then says, "You wouldn't understand."

"Why don't you try me?"

"Why don't I try you? How about because you're a high school guidance counsellor who has more issues than the entire student body combined?" Santana folds her arms and leans back in the chair. "How's that for a reason? Or do you want more than one? Because I have a list, a long list of reasons why I don't want to talk to you about feelings and crap."

She fully believes that's true, and she's almost tempted to say yes, she'd love to hear that list, to let her rhyme off every single item on there. It would at least give her some insight into the girl. However there's also a chance it might reduce her to tears, and that would just be unprofessional. "No, I think one is sufficient."

Santana just returns to filing her nails.

"Mr Schuester told me that he's asked you to leave New Directions."

Santana keeps her eyes on her hands. "Yeah, he kicked me out. S'no big deal. Spending so much time with those losers was really starting to make me feel depressed anyway."

"Do you think you're suffering from depression?" She's not sure why she asks that. It has gotten Santana to look at her though, even if it is only to scowl at her.

"I didn't say that."

"Actually, Santana, you did."

"Come on, it's a figure of speech. I've nothing to be depressed about any more."

"So you have been depressed in the past?" She knows she's starting to get to Santana with all her questions, but the girl's talking to her, so that's progress at least.

"No." Santana lets out a sigh that's pure frustration, and Emma can tell that she's struggling to hold her tongue here, not to lose her temper completely. She also suspects she's onto something, but she knows you can't push Santana Lopez too hard without getting pushed back. "Look, I don't care about Glee club, okay?" There's something in her eyes that tells Emma that isn't exactly the truth.

"Well, I think that's a shame because you're incredibly talented, Santana, and I hate to see all that potential go to waste."

She finds she's done the impossible and left Santana Lopez speechless, she just stares at her, disbelief written all over her face, as if she doesn't quite know how to take the compliment.

"You have an amazing voice, you can certainly dance, and I think we've all seen that you can be quite the actress when you want to be. I think you're actually one of the few triple threats that New Directions has."

She finds Santana won't look at her now, her arms are folded across her chest, her eyes fixed firmly on the carpet. "Yeah, well too bad that it'll always be The Rachel Berry Show."

She wants to argue against that, to defend Will, tell her that he doesn't have favorites, but she isn't one hundred percent sure that's the truth so she lets it go. "Auditions have started for West Side Story. Maybe that's an option, something to consider if you're not interested in going back to Glee club."

Santana's quiet for a while but eventually looks up at her. "If I promise to think about it, can I go?"

She nods and Santana is on her feet and at the door immediately. She stops though and turns back to her. "Thanks." Then she's gone.

Later she's doing paperwork when Will knocks on her door. "Hey, did you get chance to talk to Santana?"

"I did."

"And?"

She looks up at him. It might not be the answer he wants to hear, but it's the only one she has for him right now. "And I think you should let her back in Glee Club."

* * *

><p>Santana arrives at Brittany's house after school to find her lying on her stomach on her bedroom floor, tongue sticking out in concentration as she draws intently on a large sheet of paper. She's so focused on whatever it is that she's doing, she hasn't even heard her come upstairs so Santana takes the opportunity to just lean against the doorway and watch her, her eyes slowly traveling the full length of her body and yeah, so what if her eyes might linger on that ass for maybe a bit too long.<p>

"You're staring."

She jumps as Brittany's voice breaks her out of her trance and she's suddenly not even sure just how long she's been stood there, probably a while if the satisfied smirk on Brittany's face is anything to go by. She enters the room, dropping down onto Brittany's bed, rolling onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows so she can look down at Brittany. "Whatcha doing?"

"Making campaign posters for Kurt."

"Why?" Santana's eyes narrow, and she can't keep the sneer out of her voice, though maybe she doesn't really try.

"I'm his campaign manager. It's in the job description, I think. Wanna help?"

"Hell no." She rolls over onto her back,staring at the ceiling before Brittany can start with the puppy dog eyes, or worse, break out the pout.

"But San..." She draws her name out, and Santana knows she's only going to end up losing this discussion.

"I don't do arts and crafts." She really doesn't and she hopes that'll be the end of it. She has no interest in playing any part in Hummel becoming their Class President and still can't figure out why Brittany does. When she feels the bed dip, she knows she's in trouble. She closes her eyes, hoping to delay her inevitable defeat.

"San, but I need you."

"Sorry, but I don't remember volunteering to waste my time helping Hummel with his suicide mission. This was your thing, so you're on your own."

"Please, Santana." She feels a hand rest on her bare thigh, just above the knee to start with but soon it's sliding it's way upwards. She swallows as it slips under her Cheerios skirt. "I'd owe you."

She squeezes her eyes shut even tighter, as if that could keep out the images that are suddenly invading her head. "You're cheating," she mumbles.

"Don't know what you're talking about."

When she feels the bed dip again and Brittany slide a leg over hers so she's straddling her, she knows for sure that Brittany knows exactly what she's doing. She has to bite back a moan when she feels lips on her neck, long fingers sliding underneath her cheerios top, tracing shapes over her skin.

Yeah, she has no choice but to give in, but she decides to make the most of it first and lets it continue for another minute or so. When she opens her eyes, she finds Brittany staring down at her, her eyes dark. She doesn't get the chance to tell her she'll help with the stupid posters, instead Brittany's lips are on hers, and she's kissing her hard and deep. Eventually oxygen is an issue and Brittany pulls back, though she stays hovering over her.

"What about the posters?"

"I've found something better to do."

Santana sits up to capture her lips again. She's going to choose to take this as a victory.

* * *

><p>She should have just agreed to help with the campaign posters in the first place. That fact hits her when it's two am and they're laid out on the floor of Brittany's bedroom, surrounded by a laptop, pink card, marker pens and balled up pieces of paper, staring down at their latest effort. She tried not to laugh, she really did, especially as Brittany had been so excited that they'd finally completed a poster at last.<p>

Brittany's face falls. "What's so funny?"

"I'm just picturing Kurt's face when he sees it."

"You don't think he'll like it?"

She pauses, debating her options. Tell Brittany Kurt will love the poster and bask in the fallout that will be the result. Or be honest and suggest they maybe rethink a couple of things. As she looks over it, she realises that it did kind of escalate, each of them adding to it as they went along, the whole thing getting more and more over the top, and okay maybe she shouldn't have suggested Kurt be carrying the unicorn on his back. She blames the sleep deprivation. "I'm sure he'll love it, B." The temptation of seeing Kurt throw a full blown hissy fit, is too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Wouldn't it make more sense for the unicorn to be carrying Kurt?"

Oh well, there goes her fun with the one. "Okay, you might have a point."

Brittany sighs and throws the marker pen she'd been using across the room. It bounces off the wall and lands harmlessly a few feet away from them. "This is all your fault."

Santana raises an eyebrow. "Seriously? You're blaming me? Just how exactly is all this my fault?"

"You distracted me."

Santana's pretty sure it was the other way round, but she keeps her mouth shut. Starting an argument with an exhausted Brittany has never ended well in the past and no-one can ever accuse her of not learning from her mistakes. "I just don't see why we have to do them tonight. It's not like a few posters are gonna make a huge difference. No matter how kick ass they are, it won't be enough to make people vote for Hummel. Even I'd rather vote for Rick the Dick than be caught dead voting for Hummel."

"I told him I'd help."

"Britt, it's two in the morning."

"You said you'd help."

"Actually I didn't." A hollow victory it might have been, but it's a victory all the same.

Brittany frowns at her. "You didn't?"

"No." She didn't, did she? She doesn't remember doing so, but then her attention had been focused on other things at that point.

Brittany sighs. Again.

Santana slides closer to her until she's sitting behind her and wraps an arm around her, her chin resting on her shoulder. "Listen, how's about we get some sleep and just set the alarm to get up extra early in the morning and work on them then? And if we've not finished, we'll skip first period, and second, and so on until they're done." It sounds like the perfect plan to her, hell, anything that leads to spending more time with Brittany always sounds like a good plan to her, even if it does mean doing something for Hummel.

"And you promise you'll help tomorrow? Won't just say you're too busy or make up some excuse?" She feels her lean back into her embrace slightly.

"I promise." She's surprised to find she means it, isn't plotting on how to get out of it. Baby steps, right? If she starts with the small promises, then maybe she can eventually work up to the big stuff.


	3. Asian F

"I don't get it."

Brittany doesn't even look up from her homework when Santana speaks, just stays where she is, lying on her stomach on her bed, surrounded by text books. It's getting late and this essay needs to be handed in tomorrow, and so far she's had no help from Santana. Instead the Latina has spent the evening on YouTube, apparently doing nothing but watching videos of West Side Story.

"I don't think it's supposed to make sense, San. I mean, come on, what kind of street gangs battles by having dance offs? Why did they not just make them dance crews in the first place? Then it would have been like Step Up and that would have been way cooler." She's kinda getting West Side Storied out. It's the only thing everyone at school seems to be talking about, and now Santana seems to be getting a little obsessed with it as well. Last night, Santana had insisted they watched the movie. This morning on the drive to school, she'd had to listen to the cast recording. And tonight, Santana would rather give her attention to YouTube than to her.

"Not the show, Britt." Santana swivels round in the chair, the first time her eyes have left the screen since she got here. "What I don't get is why the hell Wheezy and Bilbo are fighting over who gets to play Maria." She sighs. "Maria sucks."

"It's the lead." Brittany shrugs. She's pretty sure Santana already knows why they both want the part, and this is confirmed when Santana rolls her eyes at her answer.

"It's just they're throwing down over Maria when everyone knows Anita is the kick ass role in this show. Anita is a bad ass. Anita is snarky. Anita is..."

"Really really hot?"

"It's not like either of them are even sopranos."

If that's a requirement for Maria then this musical is pretty much doomed, seeing as there are no sopranos in Glee club. Then a brilliant idea hits her. "Kurt should be Maria."

"What?"

She sits up. "Kurt should be Maria. Then he'd get a lead role like he wanted. And Blaine can be Tony. And it'd be really romantic."

Santana stares blankly at her for a while, then smiles. "That's actually a brilliant idea. As much as I hate to admit it, Kurt would make an awesome Maria. Too bad that the school board would never let it happen."

Brittany frowns. "Why?"

"You know why, Brittany."

She does know why. It still sucks though. Still sucks how Kurt and Blaine are so careful around each other in the hallways, always wary of anyone seeing them even touch, let alone kiss in public. That's why she has to win this election. So she can at least try to change things. Then maybe Kurt and Blaine won't be the only ones who have to be so careful around each other at school.

She flops back down onto her back and groans. She needs sleep, she needs to finish her homework, she needs Santana to finish her homework for her. "Are you done playing online now? Because you did promise to help with this essay if I let you come over." She decides to break out the pout, she's tired of not having Santana's full attention and not above playing dirty to get it.

"You don't need my help." Santana stands and crosses over to her, sitting on the edge of the bed. She picks up the essay, quickly scanning over it. "See, you got this. You just need to write your conclusion and you're done." She pats Brittany's leg. "Now come on, get on with it." She moves back to the computer desk, sliding back into the chair.

"What do I get for finishing it?"

Santana keeps her eyes on the screen. "A passing grade."

"That's not much of a reward."

"Then what did you have in mind?" She seems to realise five seconds too late what a dangerous question that is, as she suddenly spins around, a wary expression on her face.

Fortunately for her, Brittany finds her brain is so over run with the many possibilities, that she can't decide on an answer. The fact that Santana's eyes seem to have darkened isn't helping. "Urghhh." Yeah, she can't even form words with Santana looking at her like that.

"How about you finish the essay, then we'll negotiate?"

Brittany nods and scrambles across the bed. She drops back down to her stomach, pen poised over the paper. The problem is she really can't concentrate on it at all now.

Santana has gone back to YouTube and fires up yet another clip of America, the same one that Brittany is sure she's played at least ten times already tonight. This obsession with West Side Story is slowly starting to make a little more sense. "Hey, San?"

"Yeah, babe?"

She still gets a thrill when Santana calls her that. "Why aren't you auditioning for Anita?" She's not sure why she hasn't asked her this before, it's so obvious now that she's thought of it.

"Oh please, like I'd be seen dead in the school musical."

She always has been fluent in Santana, so she's able to translate that sentence with no trouble, know that what she really means is she wants this too much to even risk trying and failing. "You'd be awesome. You know that, right?"

Santana just shrugs, but she does slowly turn to face her.

"You would. And you know why I think no-one else has gone for Anita? Because they all know that part is yours. They'd all suck and you'd just own that stage."

"I'm not sure Broadway is really me."

"Santana, you can be anything you want to be." She's forever trying to get her to see that. She might not be getting anywhere with it, but that doesn't mean she plans on giving up. "You can do this."

"You really think so?"

"I think this musical will suck if you don't. You owe it to everyone to play Anita. You have to save the show, San, you have to." She kneels up, and beckons Santana over to her. "Besides I think you have to do anything your President tells you to. Isn't that how it works?"

"You're not the President yet." Santana stops at the end of the bed, hooking her arms around Brittany's neck. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait to start abusing your power of office."

Brittany places her hands on Santana's hips. "You're still gonna do it though."

"Maybe. I'll think about it, okay?"

That's good enough for now. Brittany leans in to kiss her, but Santana pulls back. Santana shakes her head, but she is smiling. "You need to finish that essay. Then we'll see about that reward." She pulls out of her arms and makes a move back towards the desk. "You know you're going to be an amazing Class President."

"I know. I'm awesome."

"Yeah, damn right, you are." Santana sinks back into the chair but her eyes remain fixed on Brittany.

Brittany picks up her essay and tries to focus on it, but she can't seem to think of anything that isn't Santana related right now. She grabs her pen and quickly writes one final sentence, before pushing everything off the bed onto the floor. "Done. Now you said something about a reward?"

* * *

><p>For the first time in a while, Brad has managed to get the auditorium to himself. Just him and his piano, the way he likes it. The auditions for West Side Story have meant that hasn't happened very often lately, much to his annoyance. This musical has meant various members of New Directions have been ambushing him at every opportunity, all demanding he accompanies them, usually coming up with some ridiculous inappropriate song choice. He never cares enough to suggest they rethink. At least that new kid with the bow ties had the sense to go with a song from the show. He'd also have given the Berry girl credit if she hadn't insisted Somewhere be butchered into a Streisand like soft pop version. And don't even get him started on the Hummel boy and his Sais.<p>

He hears the auditorium door slam and cringes. So much for his peace and quiet. He considers making a break for it, but whoever it is has a clear view of the stage, and he refuses to be seen running away from a Glee kid.

"Hey Pianoman. You're a hard guy to track down these days. Been practicing your hide and seek skills?"

Santana Lopez. He's a little surprised that she's seeking him out. Then again she's surprising him a lot lately. He's still waiting for someone to meet with an unfortunate accident after since Schuester decided to be a moron, again, and kick her out of his little club. How the curly haired muppet thinks he can win Nationals if he's going to throw out these kids every time they upset him, he doesn't know. If this is his new game plan, there will only be Hudson and the Asians left by Christmas.

Santana has reached the bottom of the steps now and hops up onto the stage. "Who's got you running scared this week?"

He shrugs.

"Everyone then? Yeah, they are being especially annoying lately." She walks towards him and he freezes. It's his usual reaction whenever any of these kids are around his pianos. They're far too fond of sitting on them, standing on them, he's not even keen on their need to constantly circle around them all the time. She must notice his reaction as there's a glint in her eye. "Relax, Red. I come in peace. I'm not carrying any flammable liquids or sources of ignition. Your piano is safe." She offers him her sweetest smile, and then adds, "For now anyway."

That's what he's always liked about her. She never tries to charm him into helping her out, she always just gets to the point. Last year, she would come to him quite a bit, just to talk. He thinks she likes that he never talks back, that he'll just sit in silence while she rants, never interrupting her, or sprouting cliches at her. He wonders if she maybe believes he's mute like he's sure the rest of them do. Maybe this is why she's always seemed to think her secrets are safe with him, or maybe she just trusts him because of their mutual dislike of the others.

"So West Side Story. I'm thinking about auditioning."

There she goes surprising him again.

"Whatever, it's no big deal."

He doesn't need to ask what role she's going for. He fumbles through the sheet music he has laid out on top of the piano, until he finds A Boy Like That and holds it up.

"Right." She has her hands clasped together now, something she does when she's nervous. "It's just all this Broadway shit has pretty much always been Berry and Hummel's thing, you know? It's not exactly me."

She might not have the traditional Broadway voice, he'll agree with her there, but he doesn't see that as a bad thing, and he's confident she can more than handle West Side Story.

"And I don't even know what I'm thinking asking you for advice. You really screwed me over last year with that Amy Winehouse song."

He doesn't think he did. In fact, she killed on that number. It wasn't his fault that St James twerp was so besotted with the Berry girl that no-one else even stood a chance.

He stands and gestures for her to take the seat at the piano.

She scowls at him, folding her arms. "I haven't been practicing."

That doesn't surprise him. She'd been so determined when she had first asked him to teach her to play last year, but once she'd decided it was just easier for him to accompany her on Songbird than learn it herself, her interest had dropped off. He stays standing though, just in case she changes her mind, and sure enough after a moment, she slide onto the stool, though her hands just ghost over the keys.

"So West Side Story. If I do audition, it needs to be an Anita song, right?"

He's still holding the sheet music and he places it in front of her. Her face scrunches as he does so. "Can we not go with something a little easier?"

He shakes his head. She can do this, he knows she can. He's just not sure why she doesn't. She's not usually the kind of person who lacks confidence, or at least who'd ever admit that anyway.

"Brittany, she thinks I can do this."

Now this is starting to make sense. He should have known it was about the dancer. It's always about the dancer for her. Something tells him it always will be.

"I just...I just don't want to let her down, you know?"

He does know. He also suspects that's something that could never happen.

"Sometimes she looks at me like I can't do anything wrong."

He's seen her give the dancer that look on more than one occasion.

"It's a little scary."

Being in love is, something he thinks she knows all too well.

She shakes herself, as if suddenly realizing where she is, and why she's here. "So, you gonna help me or not?"

He signals for her to move and then retakes his seat. He plays the opening notes of A Boy Like That and waits for her to sing.

* * *

><p>After school, Santana catches up to Brittany at their lockers. "Hey."<p>

"Hey." She frowns at Santana, but soon breaks into a wide grin.

Santana opens her locker and starts collecting her books. "What?"

"You're bouncing."

She hadn't even noticed until Brittany pointed it out, but yeah, she is literally bouncing, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. She quickly stops herself, eyes darting around the hallway to make sure that nobody else noticed. People are much less likely to be terrified of her if they see her acting so freaking hyper.

Brittany leans towards her so she can whisper in her ear. "Relax, it's cute."

As a rule she doesn't like the idea of people thinking she's cute, but she finds she doesn't mind so much when that person is Brittany. However she has a reputation to preserve, so the bouncing? Definitely needs to go.

"You haven't been at the Pixy Stix stash, have you, San? Because they're supposed to be for the voters. If I'm not allowed to abuse my power as President, then you're not allowed to abuse yours as First Lady just to get a sugar rush."

She nearly points out again that Brittany hasn't won the election yet, but they both know it's pretty much a given at this point. "No, Britt, I'm not on a sugar high."

"Okay." Brittany looks less than convinced, and okay, maybe it is a little strange her acting like this, especially in the hallways of McKinley.

She's just going to close her locker when something certain words finally sinks in, and her head snaps to face Brittany. "Wait, First Lady?" For a moment she worries her heart has actually stopped, but then it's throwing itself against her ribcage. Repeatedly. For reasons she doesn't even want to start thinking about right now.

Brittany just gives her that smile, the same one she's been giving her for a few weeks now, the one that says Brittany knows something she doesn't. She doesn't dare ask what though. She gets the feeling Brittany wouldn't tell her if she did, that it's something she's supposed to work out for herself.

"So anyway, no Glee today, no Cheerios, that means you're coming over tonight, right? Because we need to celebrate you kicking everyone's ass and getting to play Anita." Brittany pushes off the lockers, hoists her backpack onto her shoulders and turns back to her. "And of course my awesome campaign, we should celebrate that too."

Santana finally manages to get her body to agree to move again and she closes her locker. "What do you have in mind?"

Brittany shrugs, but the way she's biting down on her bottom lip tells Santana that she knows exactly how she wants them to spend the evening, and well she isn't about to object to that.

"Then come on, what are we waiting for? Let's get the hell out of here."

They start off down the hallway, heading towards the parking lot. Neither of them say anything until they're sat in Santana's car. She's busy fastening her seat-belt when Brittany suddenly leans across and kisses her, nothing major, just brushes their lips together, then leans back in her seat as if doing this sat in the school parking lot is no big deal. Her heart had still been pounding as it was, but now it definitely feels like it's trying to beat it's way out of her chest. She waits for something to happen, for the sky to fall or something, but nothing. Nobody has stopped to stare at them, whisper about them, make snide comments. In fact nobody has even noticed, her world is still in tact.

"You're going to kill in West Side Story."

Santana hands shake slightly as she puts the key into the ignition. "Yeah, only because I'll no doubt end up murdering the Hobbits by the second week of rehearsals."

Brittany frowns, as if she hadn't considered how much time she's going to be forced to spend with them over the coming weeks. "But if you do that, then how can there be a musical? The leads would be dead and you'd be in jail."

"Oh please, you don't think I could make it all look like an accident?"

"No, because it's Rachel. You'll just snap and kill her in front of witnesses. And then the police will drag you away and that would suck." Brittany's voice wavers slightly. "I don't want you to go to jail so please don't kill Rachel."

She reaches for Brittany's hand and laces their fingers together. "Hey, I promise, okay? I'll be on my best behavior. I won't even make fun of Frodo's bow-ties."

"Good. Because I don't know what I'd do if I lost you now, after waiting so long for this."

That's enough to start her heart off racing again, and she's convinced that it must be trying to tell her something. Not for the first time she doesn't understand it though. "You'll never loose me, Britt. You're kinda stuck with me." And now she's being given that damn smile again, and this time she can't stop herself from asking. "What? Seriously, what is with the smile?"

Brittany squeezes her hand gently. "You'll figure it out."

It doesn't feel like she ever will, but Brittany seems to have faith in her ability to do so. Even if she doesn't have any faith in her being able to get away with murder. She just hopes Berry is on her best behavior as well. If not then she's screwed. "A little grievous bodily harm is okay though, right?"

"No."

"I'm not talking anything serious enough to stop her performing, but if say, she happened to fall off the stage at some point?"

"No."

"But..."

"No. You need to play nice."

"That is playing nice."

"No."

She sighs. These rehearsals are going to be a living hell and she's suddenly regretting this whole thing.

"Of course, Rachel won't know that you're not allowed to hurt her." She raises an eyebrow, but Brittany just shrugs. "I'm just saying."

It still surprises her sometimes just how sneaky Brittany can be. Maybe she can have some fun with this after all. But for now she's got an entirely different kind of fun in mind. "So anyway, you going to let me in the plan for tonight?"

"Nope. You'll find out soon enough, but I think you'll totally going to enjoy it."

She fumbles with the keys, trying to start the engine. Oh yeah, Sneaky-Brittany is definitely one of her favorite kinds of Brittany.


	4. Pot Of Gold

Santana hates watching Brittany at Motocross, always has done, and probably always will do, but that doesn't mean that she ever misses a race or a practice. Every Wednesday, she's here, flinching every time Brittany goes into a jump, giving out silent prayers for her to make it round the track in one piece. Brittany however is fearless, like she is when it comes to everything in life. On the rare occasions she does come off her bike, she's always back on her feet in seconds and ready to go again. For Santana however, it always takes another three laps before her heart will start beating again, and for her lungs to agree to take in air.

Today she feels more on edge than usual, though she isn't sure why. As soon as Brittany has finished and is pushing her bike off the track, she's making her way down the stand towards her, climbing over the barrier. Everybody here knows her, she's that much of a regular fixture, so nobody even tries to stop her.

"Looking good out there, Pierce."

Brittany stands her bike up, and then removes her helmet. "Hey. What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be in West Side Story rehearsals right about now?"

She can't help taking a moment to appreciate the sight of Brittany in her leathers, the one plus side of Motocross.

"You're not cutting already, are you?" She sounds a little disappointed and that snaps Santana out of the fantasy she'd been having. "Was Rachel really that bad?"

"No, it wasn't that. I just don't fancy being tied up every Wednesday with rehearsals, so I told Ms Pillsbury that it's when I volunteer at the hospital and voila, no more Wednesday rehearsals for me."

Brittany frowns. "But you don't volunteer at the hospital on Wednesdays. It's the one day of the week that we don't do anything, because I'm always here straight after school."

"I know." That's exactly why she wanted to get out of rehearsals. She hasn't missed a chance to watch Brittany race since she first took up the sport, not even in those dark days when she was dating Artie and they weren't even really speaking, she'd still come and sit in the stands, even if afterwards she would leave without even saying a word to Brittany.

She can tell Brittany doesn't understand her thinking here, but thankfully she doesn't question her on it. "And how did that go down with Rachel?"

"She may have thrown a teeny tiny diva tantrum, but she soon got over it when I pointed out the more rehearsals I attend, then the greater the chance of me killing the lot of them."

"What happened to you playing nice, San?"

"Hey, there's been no violence so far, has there?" She's been quite impressed with herself actually, especially over being able to resist the urge to wheel Artie off the stage at every opportunity.

"Okay, so I guess you get brownie points for that."

She's about to point out that she should get more than brownie points, but she's distracted by the sight of a blonde haired jock jogging over to them. She's seen him around the track before, and knows he's one of Brittany's fellow Motocross riders.

"Hey Brittany." He stops next to them, nodding a greeting to Santana.

"Hey, Chet." Brittany smiles at him, and that stirs something low in Santana's gut.

"That was some impressive times out there today. You made some awesome runs."

"Thanks." Brittany's eyes dart from him to Santana, and as if she's carefully watching her reaction, though Santana isn't sure for what. "I suppose you did okay. For a boy."

"So I was thinking maybe we should go get coffee some time."

She's hit with a strong desire to punch him in the face, but that little voice in the back of her head is telling her she has no right to, and telling her to stay right where she is, rooted to the spot. She's vaguely aware of Brittany moving closer to her and away from him, her gaze very much fixed on Santana, again as if waiting for something. When nothing happens though, she does turn to him. "Sorry, I don't drink coffee."

"It doesn't have to be coffee, we could go see a movie or..."

"I don't like movies."

He deflates a little, glancing back towards where a group of his friends are watching him crash and burn. "Well, hey, how about I give you my number, just in case you change your mind?"

Santana wonders if he's a boy scout as he's come prepared with pen and paper and he quickly jots down his phone number and presses the scrap of paper into Brittany's hand. "I guess I'll see you next week then." Then he's gone, quickly heading back towards the others.

Santana glares at his back, wishing that she had the power to make him spontaneously combust. "Can you believe that jerk? Asking you out like that?" She folds her arms. "Fucking idiot."

"Why is he an idiot exactly? Why shouldn't he ask me out?"

She spins around to face Brittany to find hurt in her eyes. Her face softens immediately. "I didn't mean it like that, B. Of course he'd wanna ask you out. You're like made of awesome. I'm pretty sure every guy here wants to date you." A fact that she really isn't happy about, and maybe that's one of the reasons why she feels the need to be here every week to keep an eye on them.

"And he is kinda cute."

Santana eyes narrow. "He's what now?"

Brittany just shrugs. "Is there a reason why I couldn't go out with him?" There's a challenge in the question, but it's a challenge that Santana isn't ready to face right now. Instead her shoulders slump, and she sighs. "No, Britt. There isn't a single reason why you shouldn't go out with him."

Brittany's still wearing that disappointed look and it tells her that wasn't the answer she'd been hoping for, but she really has nothing else she can offer her right now.

She gives Brittany a life home, but it's spent in silence. She keeps replaying that whole scene over and over again in her head, trying to figure out what it was that Brittany had wanted from her, had been seemingly waiting for, and then been so disappointed about when it didn't happen. She can't help wondering if maybe she should have hit him, or if that would have only made things worse.

Once they're parked up in front of the Pierce house, she switches off the engine, trying desperately to think of something to say, but Brittany beats her to it. "You wanna come in for a bit?"

She doesn't think that's a good idea. There's something here that she needs to figure out, something that she's been avoiding for a while now, and she thinks she needs to not be around Brittany to do that. "It's getting late. I'll pick you up in the morning, yeah?"

Brittany's face falls slightly, but she just nods. She moves to open the door but then stops, turning back to Santana. She fishes something out of her pocket. The scrap of paper with Jerkboy's number scribbled down on it. Brittany holds it out, making sure Santana knows what it is, then she rips it into two, then into four. She keeps going until the pieces are too small to carry on, then she reaches for Santana's hand and presses the fragments into it, closing Santana's fingers around them. She takes Santana's hand in both of hers and brings it to her mouth, pressing her lips against the back of her knuckles.

Santana doesn't say anything, once again she's not sure what to say.

And once again Brittany doesn't seem to have the same problem. "Just so you know, I can think of several reasons why I wouldn't go out with him, or anyone else. I just wanted _you_ to name one, but it's okay." She leans over and kisses her cheek. "It's okay. I can wait."

As Brittany opens the door and starts to slide out of the car, she can't stop herself from asking. "Wait for what?"

"You're hopeless." Brittany just shakes her head, but she's smiling. "But I totally still love you." She climbs out of the car. "I'll see you tomorrow, San."

Santana watches as she walks across her lawn and disappears inside her house. She's trying to make sense of it, she really is. Of why she was jealous when Jerkboy dared to even talk to Brittany, let alone ask her out. Of why Brittany referring to her as her First Lady does strange things to her insides. Of why the idea of Brittany going out with anyone else makes her want to murder every single person on the planet, just to make sure that can't ever happen, and oh...

Suddenly she gets it. That voice in her head is screaming at her, calling her stupid for taking so long to figure it out. It can't be right though, can it? Is Brittany her girlfriend and she hasn't even realized it? Or maybe it's just that she hasn't allowed herself to even think it was a possibility, for fear of ruining whatever it was they were building up. Now that she knows, she's bound to panic and screw everything up. She's sure that's why Brittany hasn't said anything, not wanting to freak her out by putting a label on what it is they've been doing.

Or then of course, she could be totally wrong. It's not like she really knows what proper dating even looks like after all.

Her cell phone buzzes, shaking her out of her thoughts. She grabs it to find she has one new text message.

**I love you, but you sitting outside my house all night is a little stalkerish. Either come inside or go home.**

Part of her really wants to go inside, but she knows she needs to think this through, plan what she has to say, or she'll only end up blurting it out and that will only make her look like an idiot. No, she needs a plan. Yeah, she'll take Brittany to Breadstix after school tomorrow, buy her dinner and then casually slip it into the conversation. She can do that, right? She starts the engine and pulls away. Yeah, she's pretty sure she can manage this. If she can avoid having a panic attack for long enough to do so anyway.

* * *

><p>Sue Sylvester refuses to stand by and let this happen. Not again. She lost three Cheerios to William Schuester and his rag tag band of misfits. She will not loose any more to Mrs Robinson and her Spice Girl wannabes, or whatever annoying girl power group they're trying (and no doubt failing) to imitate.<p>

Children are fleeing in terror as she storms down the corridor, as they should be, and she takes great satisfaction in seeing them dive for cover. She can hear the warning shouts as people raise the alarm. _Couch Sylvester is on a rampage. Run for your lives. _She doesn't think she will ever get tired of this.

She spots Aretha and a girl she doesn't even care to know stood by the lockers and changes direction. Aretha looks like she's trying to decide if it's worth the effort to even attempt to run away. The other girl, who she thinks is another member of these so called Trouble Tones, must be new here as there is no fear in her eyes, she's just regarding her with curiosity.

She stops right in front of them. "Where are they?"

Aretha's eyes dart around the corridor. "Where are who?"

"You know who. Where are they?"

"How should I know? They're your Cheerios."

"Well unfortunately as Figgins refused my request to have all my girls fitted with GPS trackers, something about it being an invasion of civil rights, you're going to have to tell me where your co-conspirators are hiding."

Maybe this Corcoran woman has something with her feminine empowerment ideas, as Aretha seems to have suddenly grown a backbone, and just folds her arms, staring her down. "I told you. I don't know where they are."

This doesn't seem to have extended to all members of the group though. "They're in the bathroom." The strange girl nods towards the door at the other side of the corridor.

"Sugar!" Aretha glares at her teammate, but it has no effect.

"What?" The girl shrugs. "They are."

Sue turns on her heel and stomps over there, throwing open the door hard enough that it slams into the wall.

Santana and Brittany break apart as she enters, guilty expressions on their faces. She likes to think the guilt is because they know they've betrayed her and fear the consequences. Though more likely it's because she's pretty sure five seconds ago when she walked in, Brittany's tongue had been down Santana's throat.

The sex eyes they keep giving each other in Cheerios practice are bad enough, but if they're going to start being so careless with their fooling around, then how do they expect her to continue pretending not to know about them? Something she's certain that about ninety percent of the school is doing at this point actually, seeing as they don't even seem to be trying to hide it any more.

Anyway she has more important things to deal with right now. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my second favorite head cheerleader and her intellectually challenged friend thinking they can hide from me in the girl's bathroom."

Brittany frowns at her. "We weren't hiding from you, we were..."

Thankfully she doesn't have to hear how that sentence ends as Santana quickly elbows the blonde to silence her.

"You _should _be hiding from me after what you've done."

Both of them are keeping their eyes on the floor now. Oh yes, they are well aware of how they've crossed her. "Whilst I applaud you both for finally having the sense to abandon the sinking ship that is Glee club, doing so to then climb aboard another one is just plain stupid. And whilst I don't much care what you two choose to do with your time, I did not give permission for you to take any more of my Cheerios with you onto what is quite obviously the Titanic 2.0."

Santana raises her gaze to meet hers. "But Coach, we need more members to compete at Sectionals."

"Well then you'll just have to do what Schuester does and grab some random bystanders at the last second to stand and sway in the background. Because I will not let you recruit any of my girls into your singing cult."

"But we want to win." It surprises her when Brittany speaks, normally she's the silent partner, content to let Santana fight their battles for them. She has noticed that does seem to have been changing lately though.

"I'm sorry?"

"We want to win.

Of course they want to win. She teaches all her girls that from the very first day of practice, she just doesn't see what that has to do with them wanting to drag their team mates down with them. She glances from Brittany to Santana, hoping that the Latina will explain.

Thankfully she doesn't even have to ask.

"You always told us that the key to winning was to exploit your opposition's weakness. Well, New Directions weakness is that they can't dance. Without Britts, they've only got Boy Chang who can move. So I just figured we fill the group with Cheerios and we can't loose."

"Well of course you couldn't loose. They're Cheerios, they don't know the meaning of the word." Except for that rather embarrassing disaster at Nationals last year, but she refuses to count that. "Can any of them even sing?"

"They don't need to. We've got the vocals down."

Sue knows that what she means by that is her and Aretha don't want any more competition for the solos.

"What we need is dancers, and where else in this school are we going to find people that have got the skills we need?"

Sue will concede that maybe, just maybe Sandbags has a point. As soon as she suspects that a student has even a hint of talent, or is able to follow simple instructions (her coaching skills can make any one a champion if they can just do that), then she has that student signed up for her squad. So it does make sense for them to want to poach her star cheerleaders, and okay maybe she isn't completely opposed to seeing them crush New Directions into a bloody pulp live on stage. Anything that takes Schuester down a peg or two can't be all bad, and if that means sacrificing a couple of her Cheerios to the cause? Well she thinks she just might be able to live with that.

"Then I'm holding you personally responsible for anything that happens. I swear if your little group of Beyonce wannabes doesn't beat the Glee club, then your lives will not be worth living. Spending the rest of the year at the bottom of the pyramid will just be the beginning. Are we clear?"

Once they both nod, she turns and storms back out of the bathroom, once again slamming the door against the wall. She starts to make her way back towards her office. People are no longer scattering before her, but once she shoves the nearest student into a locker, that soon changes.

Maybe this school year might be interesting after all.

* * *

><p>After their pretty damn awesome performance of Candyman, Brittany had been as surprised as everyone else when Santana suggested they all go to Breadstix. Well, actually the invitation had really only been aimed at Mercedes, but Santana had only grouched a little when Sugar had tagged along, and once Sugar had insisted she paid, then even that complaining had stopped.<p>

Now Brittany finds herself sat in a booth, watching while Santana actually laughs and jokes with Mercedes. Sugar must find the whole situation as surreal as she does as she has somehow managed to keep her mouth shut all evening. Or maybe she just thinks that if she does speak, Santana might have reason to turn on her again.

"Gotta say, girls, we killed it up there. New Directions aren't gonna know what's hit them." Mercedes looks around the table, finally settling her gaze on Santana. "And I hate to admit it, but it was a brilliant idea to add some Cheerios to the group."

Santana shrugs, like it's no big deal, but Brittany knows otherwise. "Did you see Finnessa's face? I swear it was worth pissing off Coach Sylvester for that alone."

Sugar looks a little scared. "Shouldn't we be worried that she'll try to murder us in our sleep?"

Brittany is sure she flinches when Santana turns her attention to her for the first time since they got here. "Relax, Angelica. Me and Britts have got it all under control."

Sugar mouths Angelica at Mercedes who just shrugs. She doesn't feel the need to enlighten them.

Her and Santana had ended up sitting on one side of the booth, Mercedes and Sugar on the other, something that's been annoying her all night, as it's made it a lot more difficult to play footsie with Santana under the table. It did mean she was able to keep a hand on Santana's thigh though, or it did until she'd run her fingers maybe a little too high and Santana had almost choked on a meatball. She'd backed off after the warning glance Santana had shot her after that, but now they've finished eating, she twists in her seat, so she's mostly facing Santana, slides off her shoe, and stretches out a foot until she can press it against Santana's leg, starting at her ankle, and slowly running it up towards her knee.

To her credit, apart from her eyes briefly darting across to look at her, Santana manages not to react, just continues talking to the others. "I just think it makes a change having someone in charge who knows what they're doing. I swear Ms Corcoran is like the Yoda of show choirs or something. Whereas Mr Schue, is like Jar Jar Binks."

Mercedes shakes her head. "I don't know what is more weird about this conversation. That Santana Lopez is making Star Wars references, or that I understood them."

"Guess when you date Trouty Mouth, you can't help picking this stuff up. Did he make you sit through all six of those stupid movies?"

Brittany draws her foot away. She hadn't realized that Santana had ever spent that much time with Sam. She'd always just figured that he was just there for Santana to be seen with in public, like Puck had before him. She never thought for a minute that Santana had willingly spent time alone with him, never mind sit through not one Sci-Fi movie, but six.

"Yeah, he did. Twice. How many times did you have to watch Avatar?"

"God, I lost count. I really don't get what the big deal is with that movie. It sucked."

She doesn't like this, having to sit here and listen to Santana and Mercedes bonding over an ex boyfriend.

"Course, it didn't help that he spent the whole movie reciting the lines and doing his stupid impressions. Every single time. I mean, seriously, could he have been a bigger geek?"

Mercedes has fallen quiet and is now staring down at her empty plate. Santana looks to her as if to ask what she's done wrong here, but Brittany just looks away.

It's left to Sugar to break the silence. "Anyone want dessert?"

Nobody seems in the mood any more, much to Sugar's obvious disappointment. Mercedes says it's late and she needs to get home. Sugar offers her a lift and soon Brittany and Santana are left alone at the table.

As soon as the others have gone, Santana turns to her. "What the hell did I say? You saw I was on my best behavior all evening. I wasn't mean to either of them, kept my comments to myself, and they still bail like that? Seriously, what the hell?"

"I think it was you mentioning Sam."

"Why?"

"Because she's not over him."

Santana dismisses her with a wave of her hand. "Oh please, they were only together for the summer. How can she not be over him? Plus, come on, it's Trouty Mouth. There isn't exactly much to be over. The guy's got no moves whatsoever."

That does a little to curb her jealousy, just a little, but she still keeps her eyes focused on the table. She pushes what's left of her food around her plate with her fork. She's surprised when Santana takes hold of her hand, under the table of course, but still.

"I never slept with him."

She looks up now, her eyes instantly finding Santana's.

"I'm not sure if I ever told you that."

She hadn't. She never said that she did have sex with him, but Brittany had always just assumed she had. It makes her wonder about Karofsky as well, but thinks that's probably a question for another day.

Santana frowns, as if trying to work something out. "I let him get to second base one time but then I just started crying, and I couldn't even tell him why. I think I kinda freaked him out actually."

They don't talk about last year, most of the time they're both content to just pretend that none of it ever happened, so she doesn't say anything, just lets Santana continue, though she does squeeze her hand lightly.

"It wasn't working any more, you know? It wasn't enough to just pretend any more." Santana shifts in her seat, turning so she's facing her. "I think he felt sorry for me or something, as after that, we'd always just end up hanging out, watching stupid movies and playing stupid video games."

She's always suspected that Santana was secretly a complete dork. This is just further proof of that. She also suddenly hates Sam Evans a lot less, in fact she's grateful to him for trying to look after Santana when she couldn't.

"And I don't even know why I'm telling you all this."

She shrugs. "Because that's what girlfriends do."

Santana smiles now, no, she's practically beaming, a huge grin plastered on her face.

"What?"

"It's just..."

"What?"

"Girlfriends." She says the word as if she still can't quite believe it.

"Dork." She nudges Santana's shoulder gently with her own, and is rewarded with a laugh.

Santana pushes back, then sighs. "You still wanna get dessert? I'll pay."

"Would that make this a date?"

"Maybe."

"And does that mean you'll be expecting to get lucky afterwards?"

"Britt, I got lucky the day I met you, anything else is just a bonus." As soon as she's said the words, Santana's face scrunches as if she can't believe she just said that, and she shakes her head. "God, I don't even know what's got into me lately. Being friendly to Wheezy and Elmyra Duff, not making snide comments at every opportunity. And I think I might have actually smiled at Bilbo this morning and called her Rachel to her face." She shudders. "Although that did mean she refused to come within three feet of me at rehearsal as she said I was obviously plotting against her, so maybe there's something to this whole being nice to people thing."

She likes this new Santana, she does, but she also likes the vicious Santana who can have someone cowering before her just with a few well placed words. She loves them both and would never want to loose either. She's suddenly reminded of something. "Hey, did you do something to Rory?"

Santana picks up her glass and takes a long sip of water before answering. "What makes you ask that?"

"Well the fact that he won't be in a room with me any more. Last time I walked into the kitchen, he tripped over his own feet trying to get away." She gets her answer from the satisfied smirk that appears on Santana's face. "And just when I thought you were going to start using your powers for good."

"Yeah, well, maybe if he wasn't such a creepy little perv who was trying to make a move on my girl."

"Your girl, huh?"

"Yeah, my girl." There's that grin again. "Like I said, girlfriends."

She thinks she gets as much of a thrill hearing it said out loud as Santana seems to get from saying it. "How about we skip dessert and get to the part where someone gets lucky?"

Not surprisingly Santana doesn't argue with her.


	5. The First Time

"Do you ever think about imprinting?"

Santana lifts her head up from Brittany's chest so she can look at her. Pillow talk with Brittany never fails to surprise her. It's not the most random question that she's ever asked her, but it still makes her frown. "You mean like in Twilight?"

"Yeah."

She can't say that she has. She can't say she's spent much time thinking about Twilight at all in fact. Other than thinking how crap it is. "What about it?"

"Do you think it really happens?"

She's not sure if Brittany's only talking about imprinting or about the whole vampire and werewolf thing in general. Her answer's the same either way. "I don't think so, Britt. It's just a story."

"Oh." She sounds disappointed by that, and she wonders if maybe she should have just lied, but whilst she won't go out of her way to shatter any of Brittany's more bizarre beliefs, she's always made a point of only telling the truth whenever she's asked for her opinion on something.

"Why?"

"No reason." She feels her shrug against her. "I just think it's kinda cool. The idea that you find your soulmate and instantly have this like awesome bond with them, can read them so completely, and you know exactly what they want, how to make them happy. It's not important though."

She settles back down against Brittany's chest. She's not sure if this conversation is over or not, but something about the way Brittany's hand is stroking up and down her arm tells her that she's still thinking about it though. She sits up slightly, and shifts back so she can rest her head in her hand and stare down at her. She rests her hand on Brittany's bare stomach, lightly tracing circles there with her finger tips. "Britt, this isn't your way of telling me that you're actually a werewolf and have imprinted on me, is it?"

Brittany just smiles at her, then leans up to capture her lips with hers, placing a hand on the back of her neck to pull her in to deepen the kiss.

When they finally break apart, Brittany just shakes her head slightly, and that smile is now more of a smirk.

Santana swallows. "You know, it makes me nervous when you do that."

"Do what?"

"Kiss me so I won't notice that you're avoiding answering a question."

"Didn't work this time though, huh?"

"Well, we were talking about Twilight, and it's kinda hard to forget that when I suddenly have all these thoughts about Kristen Stewart in my head."

That wipes the smirk off Brittany's face. "Kristen Stewart? Seriously?"

"Think there's anything you can do about that?"

Brittany pulling her back down tells her that she's at least going to try.

* * *

><p>Sometimes Santana likes being the big spoon, and on those rare occasions, Brittany will usually indulge her. But not tonight. She hasn't even gotten her breath back fully before Brittany is rolling them onto their sides, and wrapping an arm around her chest, pulling her back until she's pressed flush against her, until she can feel Brittany's heartbeat, feel every breath she takes.<p>

She flinches slightly as Brittany's lips ghost over her shoulder, where she's sure there'll be more than one angry bruise tomorrow.

"Don't know about a werewolf, Britt. I think you think you're a fucking vampire."

"Sorry." She winces again as Brittany kisses her shoulder again. "Except I'm not sorry. I like it, that I can mark you like this. It reminds me that you're mine."

She shivers at Brittany's words, and she feels her pulse quicken. Jealous, possessive Brittany. That's new, and not entirely unwelcome.

"That this body belongs to me." Fingers brush along her collarbone, then drop lower until Brittany is cupping her left breast. She somehow manages to bite back her moan as Brittany squeezes gently. She can't hold back the second one though when that hand moves to her other breast. "Even if nobody else knows it, I do."

When that hand trails lower, her eyes close and she can't stop her hips from bucking forward. "Fuck."

"And this?" Again Brittany kisses her handiwork, on her shoulder, on her neck. "This is proof of that."

She's a little disappointed when Brittany stills her movements, and just brings her arm back to rest across her chest.

"Do you ever think that we're not like other couples?"

She can't help tensing at the question. Of course she does. Isn't that exactly why she's still insisting on keeping all of this a secret? She can't bring herself to say anything though. Hopefully if she stays silent then Brittany will let the issue drop.

"The others, everything's always this big drama for them, you know? They're always falling out, always acting like being in a relationship is hard work. Why aren't we like that?"

She rolls over so that they're face to face, so she can try and get a better read on what Brittany is getting at here. "Wait, you're upset that we don't fight all the time?"

Brittany only shrugs.

"Babe, trust me, it's a good thing that we don't. Besides there's much better ways for us to spend our time together than arguing."

"So you're saying they argue so much because they're not having enough sex?"

She shudders at the images that conjures up. Brittany might have a point but the sex lives of her fellow glee clubbers is not something she wants to give much thought to. "All I know is I wouldn't trade what we have with any of them."

Brittany appears to be searching her eyes for something. "I dunno, Santana. I just can't help feeling that it shouldn't be this easy. There's never a single moment that I don't want to spend time with you, that I'm not more concerned with how you feel about something than my own feelings, about doing every single thing I can to make sure you're happy, pleasing you in any way I can." She sighs. "Why is it like that for us, but not for anyone else?"

Now she can kind of see why Brittany brought up imprinting earlier, and maybe she had something with that theory. "Maybe that's just what happens when you're lucky enough to meet your..." She trails off, suddenly not even sure of the word she's looking for.

Brittany nudges her. "Soulmate?"

She scrunches her nose at that word. "Too cliched."

"Lobster?"

She shakes her head.

"Mate?"

That one sends a jolt through her body, and she's sure Brittany's eyes have darkened.

Brittany shifts ever so closer to her, so close that their noses are touching. "Then what?"

She searches Brittany's face, hoping to find the answer there, and she does. "Everything. You're all those and more. You're my everything."

She guesses that must have been the right answer as Brittany's lips are once again on hers.

* * *

><p>Rachel finds them in the library. She's quite impressed actually with how quickly she's been able to track them down. Her sixth sense must have played some part in this as the library is the last place she would have expected them to be hanging out. They're not studying though, so all is right with the world. Instead she finds them at one of the back tables, sat side by side. Santana is flipping through a magazine, while Brittany, well Brittany appears to be drawing on Santana's arm.<p>

She can't make out from here what exactly she is drawing on Santana's wrist, but whatever it is it has her full attention, her tongue sticking out in concentration as she works on her masterpiece.

Santana for the most part seems completely unfazed by the whole thing, which tells her that this is not a rare occurrence, that it's completely normally for Brittany to mark her like this. However her eyes do occasionally drift over to fall on the pen currently working into her, her forehead creasing slightly as if she's trying to work out just what exactly is being branded onto her skin.

As she stands watching them, she almost reconsiders disturbing them, but she shakes it off. She's on a mission, and she will complete that mission. She walks over to the table, confidently, because she is not scared of Santana Lopez, no, not at all. She pulls out a chair and sits down opposite them.

At first her presence is only met with surprise, but then there's that familiar flash of anger in Santana's eyes. "What the hell do you want, Frodo?"

"I thought Rachel was Bilbo?" Brittany carefully lifts the pen tip off Santana's skin, and as soon as she does so, Santana pulls her arm free of hers, folding her arms, a scowl on her face.

"Like there's a difference. A hobbit's a hobbit, isn't it?"

Brittany sits back in her chair as if thinking about that, and Rachel knows she needs to do what she came here to do before she finds herself listening to some sort of debate about fictional creatures.

"I brought you something." She slides the CD she'd been clutching across the table, placing it in front of Santana.

Santana makes no move to touch it, in fact she's looking at it as if it might explode at any second. "What the hell is this?"

"It's a copy of the original Broadway Cast Recording of West Side Story." Rehearsals aren't going as well as she'd like, and as the lead it is her duty to help everyone to give the best performance they can. And so she has been distributing copies of this album to her fellow cast members.

"I can see what it is, Berry. But why are you giving it to me?"

"In the hope that it will inspire you, that it will help you to become Anita when you're up on that stage. I find listening to this essential to finding my Maria."

Santana stares at her, but then with one finger pushes the album back across the table to her. "Well, I'm good, thanks."

Rachel's trying to work out why she's turning down her gift, when Brittany speaks. "It sucks."

"I'm sorry?"

"It sucks. The Broadway Revival Cast Recording kicks its ass."

"And just why exactly?"

"Because Karen Olivo." Brittany says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, looks at her like she's stupid for not knowing this information.

She looks across at Santana, who only shrugs. "Have to admit, that bitch is fierce."

"And hot."

"You just have a thing for awesome Latina women."

"You know it's true."

As she watches their back and forth, the fond smile Santana is giving Brittany, she feels like she's missing something obvious here, but again it's just something that would distract her from her mission, and she can't afford that. They're running out of time before opening night and well if that means she has to abandon the OBC for a revival production, well she can work with that. "Well the Revival recording does have it's plus points, and if that's the interpretation of Anita you wish to go with then I respect your decision."

"Please tell me that means you're going to leave me alone?"

"You know I'm a little surprised to find that you're familiar with musical theatre. I wouldn't have thought it was your kind of thing."

"That's a no, isn't it?"

"Santana likes In The Heights."

"Britt!"

"What?" Brittany shrugs. "You do. And she would totally make a kickass Vanessa."

"Shut up, Britt."

Rachel studies Santana, sizing her up as she takes in this new information that Santana Lopez might just have a little Broadway knowledge tucked away. As she looks at her, she can actually see Brittany's point. "She's right, you know? The role of Vanessa is perfect for you. I also have always thought you'd make a solid Mimi in Rent."

Santana frowns at her. "That'd better not be another stripper comment, Bilbo."

She shakes her head. "I was just saying that whilst it's a part that I feel I may struggle with, it would be suited to your strengths."

"Because I would have no trouble at all playing a drug addled stripper?"

Rachel swallows, suddenly very glad for the table that's between them. Although she isn't one hundred percent certain that Santana isn't about to launch herself over it to get to her. "No, no, I was just pointing out that it's more suited to your voice type, rather than mine." She really wishes she knew where she'd gone wrong with this compliment, that somehow she's only succeeded in insulting Santana.

Suddenly Brittany laughs and thankfully Santana turns her attention to her instead. "Got something you want to add, Britt?"

"I was just trying to picture Rachel wearing the Out Tonight outfit."

She's not sure if she's supposed to be offended by that or not.

"Well don't." Santana turns back to her now, looking her up and down. "God, Britt. Thank you so much for putting that image into my head."

Brittany soon stops laughing when she notices that Santana isn't doing the same, and she frowns, something in her eyes that Rachel can't quite read. If she didn't know better she'd have sworn it looked like jealousy. She can't afford to spend time pondering over it though, she still has other members of the cast to hunt down and help.

"Anyway, I take it I will see you both at rehearsal this afternoon?"

She gets no answer from either of them, so she quickly stands, making sure she takes her CD with her. She'll just give the spare copy to Rory, he can always use the extra help anyway.

Something makes her stop in the stacks though a short distance away from them and turn back to watch them.

Brittany is reaching out for Santana's arm, fingers wrapping around her wrist, pulling it back towards her, pen in her hand. Santana shakes her off though, folding her arms once more.

"But San, I didn't get to finish."

Santana lets out a huff, but does stretch out her arm and allows Brittany to continue.

* * *

><p>Brittany manages to catch up to Santana in the girl's bathroom, where she finds her fixing her makeup.<p>

"You didn't say much."

Santana keeps her back to her, though her eyes do meet hers in the mirror. "In Rachel's little group therapy session? I warned her not to sleep with Finn. What else was there to say?"

She leans against the wall. "Was it really that bad?"

"With Finn?" Santana continues to reapply her lipstick. "Does it matter?" Her eyes seem to be searching her for something, but Brittany finds she has no idea as to what.

"Yeah. I think it does." She moves closer to her. "Because we never really talked about it."

"That's cause there wasn't anything to talk about."

She disagrees, but she can see the walls come up, can see Santana shutting her out, and she doesn't like it. Something tells her that night is still burned into Santana's memory. It's certainly still burned into hers, and she was only there for the aftermath. Santana crawling in her window after it was all done. Her pressing her lips, her body against hers, as if trying to get rid of the feel of him. Then of her stopping, pulling away, crying, breaking down right there in her bedroom, and all she could do was watch, too consumed by the guilt that she's the one who had suggested this in the first place to be able to comfort her. "I just..."

"I don't want to talk about it." The way Santana whips around to face her, the harshness of her tone, makes Brittany take a step away from her. Instantly there's regret in her eyes, and she sags against the sinks. "Sorry, I'm sorry, okay? But please, Brittany, just drop it. Please?"

She's across the room in seconds and pulling Santana into a hug. "I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about it. It's okay, it's okay."

They stay like that until the bell rings.

* * *

><p>Santana somehow manages to avoid her for the rest of the day. Even going to so far as to arrange for Mike to drive her home, him just telling her that Santana had said she had something she needed to do.<p>

Brittany knows exactly what she's doing. She doesn't trust that she'll let this whole Finn thing go, and so isn't giving her the chance to even try and force her to talk about it again.

So now she's sat alone in her room, staring at her cellphone, hoping that Santana will at least text her, even if it's nothing more than one of those _Did you see what Rachel was wearing today_ texts, that they still send sometimes.

"Do you know what the worst part was?"

She jumps when she hears Santana's voice. She hadn't even heard Santana enter her room, so is more than a little surprised to look up to find her standing in the doorway.

"It wasn't his hands on me, it wasn't knowing how wrong it all felt. It wasn't even having to do all the work while he just fumbled his way through it." Santana winces, as if reliving it as she speaks. She wants to go to her, but doesn't even dare move for fear of interrupting her. "No, the worst part? Was afterwards, when he told me he felt nothing, because it meant nothing, because _I _meant nothing."

Santana's never told her that before, and she suddenly hates Finn Hudson a little bit, well more than a little, hates that he could let Santana give herself to him, then make her feel worthless for doing so. She also knows now that Finn Hudson must be the stupidest person she knows. That he could be with this amazing beautiful girl in front of her and not realise how lucky he is to have that chance. Even Puck made her feel wanted every time he was with her, if not loved, but stupid Finn Hudson couldn't even do that.

"And he was right."

She wants to scream at her that he wasn't, wishes so desperately that her time machine actually worked and she could go back and stop that night from ever happening. She's worked so hard to make Santana believe that she is important, that she does matter, and that all those guys who have dared to make her think otherwise are all just idiots. She still refuses to believe that though. Santana still has it too ingrained in her to never believe what people tell her, even if that person is her. So she tries a different track. "I'm sorry."

Santana frowns at her, as if she isn't quite sure what she's apologising for.

"I'm sorry because if it weren't for me telling you to sleep with him then it wouldn't have happened. I should have stopped it, should have never pushed you to do that. I'm so sorry."

Santana enters the room, sitting down beside her on the bed. "It was my mistake, Britt. I've never once blamed you for it."

"You should."

Santana shakes her head, and reaches out, taking one of her hands in hers. "It happened. I can't change that. I wish I could change a lot of things that happened back then, but it's just another thing that I have to live with." She rests her head on Brittany's shoulder. "B, I have to ask though. What ever made you think that taking his virginity would mean he'd suddenly be crazy about me?"

She doesn't want to answer her, but knows she has to, Santana has already opened up to her so much tonight, now it's her turn. "Because that's what happened with me. I just figured it would be the same for anyone who was lucky enough to have you as their first."

Santana's mouth drops open, and she knows she's trying to process this information. "But..." She shifts slightly. "You never said." She turns now so that she's facing her. "Shit, Britt, why didn't you say? If I'd have known then..."

"Then what? It wouldn't have happened? Don't say that, don't ever say that, because I'm glad it happened. I have never regretted it, never."

"But if you'd told me, I dunno, maybe I could have tried to make it more romantic. At least lit a candle or something."

"Was your first time romantic?" She feels more than sees Santana tense, can feel the fight or flight response kick in, can feel it in every fiber of Santana, and she knows once again that that isn't a question she is going to get an answer to right now, if she ever does. "My point is, it doesn't matter. What difference would a few candles have really made?"

Santana doesn't look convinced. "But it should have been special, Britt. It should have been special."

"Santana, it was special. It was with you. It was amazing. You were amazing."

Santana scoffs. "Amazing? Oh please, I couldn't stop my hands from shaking, I was that nervous."

"That kinda made it even better. That you cared enough to be nervous."

"I still sometimes get nervous." Santana's voice is small, and she looks away as she speaks. "You're so perfect, and flawless, that sometimes I look at you and think..."

Brittany doesn't let her finish that sentence, doesn't want to listen to her put herself down again, so instead she kisses her, kisses her again and again until when she does pull away, Santana's breathing is heavier, her lips swollen.

She scooches backwards on the bed, pulling Santana with her, until their backs are leaning against the wall, and Santana is curled into her side.

They sit like that for a while and Santana is so still, that she starts to think maybe she's fallen asleep. Apparently not though. "Does it bother you? That you weren't my first?" Santana doesn't look at her when she asks.

She knows this isn't the time for lies. "Yeah, it does." When Santana pulls away from her, her head down, her eyes starting to water, she knows she needs to explain. "It bothers me because your first time should have been with someone that loves you. Someone that would have used it to show you how awesome you are. Someone that would have made you realise how important you are, and shown you how lucky they felt that you would share yourself with them like that. It should have been perfect." She takes Santana's hand in her own. "It should have been everything that mine was."

Santana's arms are around her now, and she's burying her head in her chest. She's trying to hold back the sobs, but she isn't succeeding. Brittany just shifts them so that they're lying down, and just holds her until the crying stops. Once again she thinks Santana has fallen asleep, but then she lifts her head up. "Britt?"

"Yeah?"

"I really wish you'd been my first."

"Me too, Santana, me too."


	6. MashOff

The TroubleTones are getting changed in the locker room when Brittany asks her the question for the fourth time. "Are you sure about this?"

Santana stops mid stretch to frown at her. "It's just dodge ball, Britt. And hey, Finnessa was the one who suggested it."

Brittany doesn't look convinced. "I know, I just..."

"What?"

Brittany sinks down onto the bench, holding her head in her hands. "It's gonna be a massacre."

Santana knows it is, that's what she's counting on. However Brittany has never shared her taste for violence. "Hey, look, they've got more people on their team than we do. Maybe there's some truth in that whole strength in numbers crap and it won't be a total bloodbath." She had hoped that would be some comfort to Brittany but instead she only seems to upset her more. In fact, she's fairly sure Brittany has even paled slightly. Maybe she shouldn't have mentioned the word blood.

She glances over to where the rest of the team are at the far side of the room, crowded around Sugar's phone for some reason she doesn't even want to know. She keeps her voice low as she asks, "Do you not wanna do this? Because it's cool if you don't." She shrugs, tries to keep her face neutral, to not show how much this matters to her. They need Brittany out there, she needs Brittany out there. For one thing, it pretty much guarantees they're going to win. Her girl has mad skills at this game, well at pretty much any sport actually. And then there's the fact that she likes having Brittany at her side as much as she possibly can.

"I don't." Brittany must notice her face fall as she quickly grabs her hand and tugs her towards her until she's standing in front of her. "I don't, but for some reason this is important to my girlfriend, so I'm gonna go out there and kick some ass." When Brittany rests her hands on her hips, Santana's eyes dart over to the others, but nobody is paying any attention to them.

"Jesus, Britt, are you trying to win Girlfriend of the Year or something?" She pulls away from her before she can't fight the urge to kiss her any longer. "Because you know you totally won that title already? You don't need to keep being so freakin awesome all the time. I'm gonna get a complex." She sits down on the bench beside her, being careful to keep some distance between them.

"You don't already?"

"Hey." She playfully pushes at Brittany's shoulder. "But thanks. For doing this."

Brittany offers her a shy smile, and just nods. "Are you going to tell me why it matters so much though? Why you're going after Finn so hard?"

She sighs. It'll sound stupid if she tries to put it into words, but this is Brittany and she knows she isn't supposed to keep secrets from her. They're supposed to tell each other stuff like this, right? Isn't that what couples do? "Because everything is so fucking easy for him, you know? He gets everything handed to him, and doesn't have to do a single thing to earn it. He's the quarterback, yet sucks at football so much he couldn't even get a scholarship. He's the star of New Directions, despite the fact that he has the least talent of anyone there. He's supposed to be their leader yet when there's trouble he's nowhere to be seen. He did nothing to help Kurt last year. Yet everybody still treats him like he's a fucking hero, and I'm sick of it."

Brittany reaches for her hand, holding it in both of hers. "So Finn Hudson's a douche. We knew this already. Why is this suddenly a big deal now?"

"It just is." She rubs at her forehead. "The TroubleTones are better than them, and I want everyone to see that."

"Which they will because we're awesome."

She wishes she could believe Brittany, she really does, but that voice in the back of her head still keeps telling her otherwise. "Did you know Rachel slept with him? She told Kurt that he was upset so she slept with him. How fucked up is that? She lost her virginity to him, not because she wanted to, but to make him feel better. That's messed up." Brittany had been tracing circles across the back of her hand, but she stops now, and when Santana looks up at her, she finds her frowning at her, as if trying to work something out. She doesn't like when she's on the receiving end of that look. Brittany is always just supposed to get her, not to ever have to figure out what she's thinking or feeling. "What?"

"Why do you even care? It's none of our business what happens between Rachel and Finn. They're not even our friends."

"I know, I just..." She trails off, not knowing how to explain it when she doesn't even understand it herself. "He should treat her better, that's all."

For a moment she thinks Brittany is going to press the issue, but then instead she nods. "Okay. Well, we've got two chances to beat him, right? The Mash-off and dodge ball. And we're gonna win both, yeah?"

"Yeah, damn straight we are."

"Because?"

"Because we're awesome."

Brittany shakes her head. "Because _you're _awesome."

She swallows. "How long til game time?"

Brittany shrugs. "Why?"

"Just wondering if we have time to go find somewhere to make out before all the ass kicking." They both turn to look back at the rest of their group to find Sugar still has everyone's full attention. Immediately Brittany is on her feet and pulling her towards the door. "I'm sure they'll wait for us."

* * *

><p>Santana's avoiding her. Brittany knows that much, she just doesn't know why this time. She usually knows why, after all Santana always has a reason for everything she does, even if it makes no sense to anybody else.<p>

This time though she only know it has something to do with Finn Hudson. She doesn't know exactly what Finn's done, but she knows he's done something. She knows there was an argument between him and Santana earlier today that has led to Santana not even taking her calls or replying to her texts. She'd thought she'd have heard people gossiping about whatever it is, but the school rumour mill appears to have completely shut down. She'd even tried collaring Jewfro, who'd just looked scared and insisted he didn't know anything. Yeah, something major has definitely happened. Something that seems to have changed everything. She just wishes she knew what it was.

She walks over to the fridge, and opens it, not even sure what it is she's looking for.

She's not aware that Rory is hovering in the doorway until he speaks. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She slams the fridge shut, and doesn't miss the fact that he jumps slightly.

He stays in the doorway, though the way his eyes keep darting back towards the basement steps tell her he really doesn't want to be here talking to her right now. "Is Santana alright?"

She frowns at him. He never asks about Santana, he always makes a point of staying out of her girlfriend's way in fact, and they've certainly never had a conversation about her before. "I don't know. She isn't talking to me. It's like she's shut me out and I don't even know why."

Rory shifts from one foot to the other, shoving his hands into his pockets. He looks guilty but she has no idea about what. She gets the feeling she's about to find out though. "Brittany, I didn't know, I swear to God. If I'd known I'd have never tried to get into your pot of gold like I did. It's no wonder she wanted to kill me. God, I'm such an idiot."

She leans against the kitchen counter, resting her weight on her palms. She can feel her chest tightening, already not liking what she thinks he's trying to say. "What did Finn say to her?" She doesn't really want to know, but she has to ask.

"What did she tell you?"

"Nothing. She's told me nothing. Like I said, she isn't talking to me."

"Look, just so you know she attacked him first. She kept calling him fat and I guess he snapped or something." He slowly enters the room, though he's careful to keep some distance and the kitchen table between them. "And well, he told her she should stop being so soft and just come out."

She stares at him. Maybe she misheard him. Most of the time she's lucky if she understand half of the words that come out of his mouth. She thinks she might have to take some Irish lessons if he's going to be living here much longer.

Rory swallows and takes a step away from her. "And I'm so thick, that I hadn't even realised that you two were together until he said that. Not even when she warned me to stay away from you. Do you reckon I should apologise to her? Or maybe you could explain to her that I didn't know?"

She doesn't answer him. She's not interested in him right now, doesn't care at all about how he's feeling. Instead she grabs her cellphone off the kitchen counter and dials Santana's number. It doesn't even ring just goes straight to voicemail. She tries Santana's home number, but once again there's no answer. She hangs up and throws the phone back down, panic setting in. It's happening again. Someone has mentioned that elephant in the room, and Santana is reacting by pushing her away, shutting her out, and well this time she isn't going to let that happen.

"Brittany, there's something else I think you should know."

"What?"

"He, Finn, he might have told her that you don't love her."

"He what?"

"He kind of told her that you don't love her."

If she'd wanted to murder Finn Hudson before, well now she definitely does. "Why would he do that?"

Rory doesn't look like he has an answer for her, or if he does, he seems too scared to tell her. Instead he shrugs, keeps his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Some part of her knows this isn't his fault, but she needs to yell at somebody right now. "I left her alone, Rory. I thought she needed some space, for me not to push her. Instead he's got her thinking that I don't give a crap about her, and I've let her believe that. You should have told me." She grabs her phone, and heads through into the hallway to get her jacket. Thankfully he doesn't follow her.

She starts out walking to Santana's, but after a couple of blocks, she picks up the pace, needing to get there as fast as she can. She's messed up here, misjudged the situation. Normally she knows when to give Santana space, when to back off and wait for her to open up to her. This time she's made the wrong decision. She just hopes she can put things right.

The house is dark when she gets there, which isn't unusual, Santana's parents aren't normally home until late. Santana's car is sitting in the driveway though which is something of a relief. She doesn't bother knocking, she can't even remember the last time she did that, instead she lets herself inside with her spare key. She closes the door behind her, then takes the stairs two at a time heading for Santana's room. She can hear music playing, music that she's fairly certain is Alanis Morrisette and that is never a good sign.

She stumbles through the door and grinds to a halt.

Santana is sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the bed, knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped tight around herself. She looks up startled at Brittany's entrance. "Britt, what..."

"I love you." It's all the words that Brittany can get out, before she has to double over, hands resting on her knees as she tries to get her breath back.

Santana's looking at her like she's crazy. "Did you like literally run over here to tell me that?"

Brittany nods. "You weren't answering your phone." She walks over to Santana, and sinks to the floor next to her. "And I wasn't sure if you knew that I love you and I wanted to make sure that you did know, because it's true. And I hope you never doubt that, Santana. No matter what other people might try and tell you."

Santana's expression doesn't change, but there's a flicker of doubt in her eyes. "Have you been talking to Finn?"

"No." She decides to play the game here, to let Santana choose to open up to her. "Why?"

"No reason." She shifts closer to Brittany, until she can rest her head on her shoulder.

Brittany slides an arm around her and waits. However she's never been the most patient of people, and when Santana's Ipod flicks from one angry girl rock song to another, she's had enough. "Where you going to tell me? About what happened with Finn?" She keeps her voice low, her tone light. She isn't angry, just hurt that Santana didn't come to her with this, that she's pushing her away again.

Santana tenses slightly. "It was nothing."

"Yeah? Is that why you've been avoiding me since it happened and are sitting in your room listening to depressing music?"

Santana pulls away from her, climbing to her feet. "Oh please, this is hardly depressing. It's not like I'm listening to Dashboard Confessional or something." She starts to pace the room. Brittany wonders if Santana gets as dizzy when she does that as she does watching her.

"You _were _avoiding me though."

Santana looks like she's about to deny it, but then she sighs. "I had to. I knew if I was around you after that then I'd have just fucking broken to pieces in your arms and I couldn't have that happen. Not at school. Not because of him."

Brittany slumps back against the bed. After everything they've been building together this year, it hurts to know that for Santana it's still all about her image, that she still won't let anyone see her vulnerable, hurting. That she'll still flat out panic over something Finn Hudson says. "You still should have told me. We're supposed to be a couple, and that means we face things like this together, doesn't it?" She's not exactly an expert in relationships, but she's fairly sure that's how it's supposed to work.

Santana looks unsure, and Brittany realises that Santana probably has even less of an idea how to be in a relationship than she does. At least she's dated Artie. Santana only has her own parents as an example, and she really hopes Santana doesn't start copying either of them any time soon.

She pulls herself to her feet and climbs onto the bed, patting the space next to her. "Come here." Once Santana is seated beside her, she turns to face her. "Maybe it's not such a big deal. Nobody at school's talking about it. Maybe nobody heard Finn. Or maybe they just don't care."

"Maybe." Santana doesn't look convinced. "Guess we'll find out tomorrow."

"It'll be okay. I promise. We'll figure this out." Brittany leans in and kisses her, softly and slowly. When she pulls away, Santana gives her a small nod and it's enough for now. "Now can we turn off the shouty rock music? Because I think it'd be really distracting trying to get off to this."

She doesn't need to ask Santana twice, she's on her feet and reaching for the Ipod before she even finishes speaking.

* * *

><p>Mercedes sighs as she watches Sugar fall on her ass for what must be the fourteenth time. "Brittany, you're making it too complicated."<p>

The rest of the TroubleTones are all scattered around the rehearsal room in various states of collapse, all long since given up any hope of being able to master the dance moves that Brittany is insisting they incorporate into their Adele Mashup. Only Sugar remains standing, as if for some strange reason she's determined not to disappoint Brittany by screwing this up. Well she had until that last fall. Now she's lying flat out on her back, panting slightly, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Brittany folds her arms and frowns at her. "This isn't complicated."

"This says otherwise." She gestures around the room, at the state the group is in, and okay, so maybe she's a little annoyed that Brittany on the other hand doesn't appear to even be out of breath. "And I think you broke Sugar."

Brittany pokes at Sugar with her foot, trying to get her to move. The girl however only whimpers, then rolls over into a fetal position.

This really isn't good. They're on stage in just over an hour, and her group is currently comprised of a girl who seems to have gone into a catatonic state, three cheerios who look like they've been put through one of Coach Sylvester's practice regimes, and an agitated Brittany S Pierce. Oh and to top it off, Santana Lopez is AWOL.

"Listen, your choreography is awesome. We really don't need to add anything else this late in the game."

"No, we do. It's not enough. It needs to be better." Brittany pushes at Sugar once more. "You guys need to try harder. We'll keep practicing until you get it."

The Cheerios all seem to be looking at Mercedes, incredulous expressions on their faces. One of them, she still has no idea who's who out of the three, hurries over to her, almost stumbling into her as she does so. "Try calling Santana again."

There's murmurs of agreement from the others, and she sighs, reaching into her pocket for her cellphone. She has a feeling the call won't connect though. This is her fourth attempt, and she knows Brittany has tried at least twice that many times. She stares at the screen as the words Calling Satan flash for a few seconds, then she's taken through to voice mail.

She disconnects and looks up to find she's now surrounded by all three Cheerios, and that makes her nervous. There's a quiet desperation in their eyes and something tells her she's about to have a mutiny on her hands if she doesn't do something.

"You have to stop her."

"She'll kill us all."

"You're supposed to be the leader."

She holds her hands up to stop them. "Enough. I'll talk to her."

She pushes past them and slowly approaches Brittany, who is now pacing around Sugar as if trying to work out how to get her back on her feet.

"Hey, Brittany." She keeps her tone soft, sweet, but Brittany glares at her as if she's an irritation she doesn't want right now, and she swallows and takes a step backwards. She glances over her shoulder to find the others urging her on. "Listen, the rest of the group? Well they're not as talented as we are, so maybe you could, I dunno, go a little easier on them?"

"I can't go easier on them. They need to get this down. So that we can beat them." There's a quiet anger to Brittany, an intensity that she's never seen from her before. She gets the feeling this isn't about the performance, that despite her absence, Santana plays some part in all this. Or maybe because of her absence. Brittany's shoulder slump slightly, only slightly, but it's noticeable. "And we have to beat them. We have to beat them."

She wonders if Santana has somehow infected Brittany with her vendetta against Glee Club. "Come on, it's just a bit of friendly competition."

Brittany's face is her usual blank expression, but her eyes, her eyes show nothing but rage. "There's nothing friendly about it, Mercedes. He made sure of that. He's the one that made this whole thing personal."

Mercedes has heard the rumblings, she knows that something went down between Santana and Finn the other day. The whole school is talking about it. Well except they're not. They're just kind of talking about how no-one's talking about it. It's like there's an embargo on this particular piece of gossip. Even Jacob Ben-Israel won't dare speak it's name. She had thought it was people's fear of Santana that had caused that, but standing here now, she gets the feeling that it's all Brittany's doing. That everyone is terrified of facing her wrath if they are heard even discussing what went down in that corridor. So nobody even wants to know what happened. Except now she's worried she's about to find out.

She's aware of the others quickly backing away, retreating to the far corners of the room and she suddenly feels like she's stumbled upon a grenade that's about to explode and she's about to become collateral damage. Sugar stays where she is, but she does place her hands over her ears.

She's saved though by the door being thrown open, and they all jump as it bounces back off the wall. Santana's standing in the doorway, eyes red, body shaking. There's only one word to describe her. Terrified. She doesn't say anything, instead just locks eyes with Brittany for a few long, awkward seconds, then she turns and leaves.

Mercedes has to scramble to get out of Brittany's way as she charges after her. Once again everyone is looking to her, even Sugar has sat up now.

"That can't be good."

"I didn't even know it was possible for Santana Lopez to get scared."

"That's us screwed if they're not performing."

"Does that mean I get to take over Santana's part?"

Mercedes rubs at her forehead. "Shut it, you guys. We don't know what's going on, and Sugar, no way in hell am I letting you even attempt to sing Adele."

Sugar folds her arms and scowls at her. "You just want the whole song to yourself."

"Actually I don't." She's a little surprised by how much she means that. "The TroubleTones are a team. Unlike a certain other Glee club, we will not ruin this by fighting over solos. We perform as a group, or we don't perform." She'd actually made a deal with Santana. They would split the vocals evenly between the two of them. No solos. In reality, combining their talents always would give them the best chance of winning anyway. Of course she'd also had to agree that Brittany could sing whatever and whenever she wanted as well, but she'd kinda expected that.

"But what about..."

"But Santana..."

"They didn't look like..."

"I can totally sing Adele."

She raises her hand to silence them again. Now she's definitely getting a headache. "Stay here. I'll go see how they are."

They all look at her like she's crazy if she goes out there, which okay, yeah, maybe she is, but she had wanted to be in charge of this group, so it's time for her to step up.

She doesn't have to go far to find them. They've only gone further down the corridor. Santana is pacing back and forth, a stream of Spanish words falling from her mouth.

Brittany seems to be trying to get close enough to pull her into her arms, but Santana won't let her, instead keeps twisting out of her grasp, trying to keep some distance between them.

"Santana, slow down...I can't...I don't..." Finally Brittany manages to get a grip, both hands on Santana's arms to hold her still. "You need to explain. What video tape?"

Mercedes suddenly feels like she's intruding, that she has no right to be here, so she ducks inside an empty classroom. All she can make out now are hushed whispers. She waits until all she hears is silence, then risks poking her head back out into the corridor to find them wrapped together, clinging to each other like their lives depend on it. When that turns into kissing, a desperate, obvious need for each other, then she has to quickly go back inside. She waits another five minutes, surely they'd have had to come up for air by now.

She makes it into the corridor in time to see Santana say something to Brittany, then slip away, disappearing outside through the double doors. Brittany watches her go, then sinks down again the wall. She looks up as Mercedes walks over to her. "She said she needed some fresh air."

She's as terrified as Santana had been, Mercedes can see it in her eyes. "Didn't know you spoke Spanish."

"I don't." Brittany shakes herself, tries to stand up. "I should..." She gestures towards the doors.

Mercedes places a hand on her shoulder to stop her from getting up. "I'll go. You look like you need a minute."

Brittany doesn't argue with her.. She needs space to pull herself together, deal with the shock, they both know that. If she breaks now, then there won't be anything to stop Santana from breaking, and well Mercedes isn't about to let that happen.

She heads outside and finds Santana sitting on the steps, a lit cigarette in her hand. She doesn't even look up when she sits down beside her.

Mercedes doesn't ask for the details, she doesn't need to know. "What do you need?"

"Finn Hudson's head on a plate." The words lack Santana's usual bite, like she doesn't even have the energy for it.

"I think your girl is already on that."

It's a guess, a wild guess that this is what all this is about, and she knows she's right when Santana tenses. Mercedes waits for the backlash, but instead Santana takes a long drag, and then slowly breathes out the smoke. "How long have you known?"

She has to think about it, and finds she can't even give a definitive answer to that question, can't pinpoint an exact moment.

Santana must realise she isn't getting an answer, as she lets out a hollow laugh. "Guess I was kinda shit at hiding it, huh? Even fucking Finn Hudson figured it out."

"Do you want to talk about it?" She knows what the answer will be, but feels obligated to ask anyway.

"No."

They sit in silence, both staring ahead. She's not sure how long they do so, but Santana is on her second cigarette by the time Brittany joins them. She sits down on the step behind Santana, legs either side of her, and she slides her arms around her waist, rests her head on her shoulder. "Hey."

"Hey."

Brittany frowns and stares at the cigarette until Santana sighs and stubs it out, rather more violently than is necessary.

She glances at her watch. If they're going ahead with their performance, then they really need to be getting ready. She looks over to them. "So what we gonna do now?"

It surprises her that Santana's the one that answers. "We're gonna go in there and we are going to fucking own this Adele mashup." She climbs to her feet, and heads back inside without waiting to check they're following her.

Mercedes grabs Brittany's arm as she goes to follow her. "You sure she's up to this?"

The fear is still there in Brittany's eyes as they dart from her to the building. "No."

Mercedes doesn't know what she's supposed to say to that. She can only follow Brittany back towards the auditorium.

* * *

><p>Nobody moves after Santana hits Finn. To Brittany it feels like everyone and everything is frozen except for her and Santana. She's off the stage and at her girl's side while everyone else still seems to be processing what happened. Her arms instinctively wrap around her, pulling her flush against her. Santana manages to twist as she does so, burying her head into her chest.<p>

She knows Santana's starting to break, splintering into a thousand glass shards right before her eyes and she can't let that happen here, not in front of them. Santana would never forgive her.

She starts moving them towards the exit, Santana doesn't even react, just lets her lead her away from everyone else. Apparently it isn't going to be that easy though.

"Santana." Mr Schue has followed them up the steps and she's sure if she turns around some of the others probably aren't far behind. "I'm sorry but I can't allow violence against another student. You'll have to come with me to see Principle Figgins."

Santana's only reaction to the sound of his voice is to press herself closer to Brittany. She isn't actually crying, but her entire body has started to shake, and Brittany knows she has to get her out of here now.

"No."

Mr Schue looks a little surprised when she speaks. "Brittany.."

"No. I'm taking her home."

"She hit Finn, and I'm sorry but I can't let that go."

"I don't care. I don't care that she hit Finn. He deserved it." Her arms tighten around Santana, speaking more to her than Mr Schue. "After everything he's done, all you want to do is punish her? Well no, you don't get to do that tonight. I won't let you."

He looks like he's going to argue, but then Ms Corcoron appears. "Will, let them go, okay?"

He sighs but he does move away.

Brittany briefly looks up at her. "Thanks."

Ms Corcoron shakes her head. "Don't thank me, I'm only giving her a reprieve. Santana, you'll still have to meet with Principle Figgins tomorrow morning. No matter your reasons for doing it, you still slapped Finn, and as Mr Schuester said there has to be consequences for that."

She waits for a moment to see if anyone else has anything to say, but they don't, so she just walks Santana out of there.

She's so focused on getting Santana out of the school, that it's only when they make it to the parking lot, are at Santana's car, then she realises that their things are still in the auditorium. Their bags, their jackets, Santana's car keys.

She's going to have to go back for them, and as much as she doesn't want to leave Santana alone right now, she can't very well drag her back inside. She would have risked walking home, risked them catching pneumonia if Santana hadn't already been trembling like she is. She pulls back, her hands on Santana's arms and quickly kisses her forehead. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

Santana instantly grabs her arm to stop her, both of her hands wrapping around it, panic and fear in her eyes. "No, don't."

"I have to, unless Puck ever taught you how to hotwire a car? How else are we going to get home without the keys, babe?" They don't even have their cellphones so she can't even call her dad to come get them. "I promise I'll be right back, okay?"

Santana doesn't release her arm though, if anything her grip just tightens and she shakes her head. "Don't leave me, Britt, please. I need you."

"And you've got me, I'm not going anywhere." She pulls her into her arms again, but that only reminds her of how cold Santana feels. "Except back inside to get our stuff so I can take you home and take care of you, okay?"

This time Santana does let her go, moving back to lean against the car, her arms wrapped around herself.

Brittany turns, planning on literally running the whole way there and back, anything so she's back to Santana as quick as possible. She doesn't even make it one step though as she spots Mercedes and Sugar walking towards them, carrying their rucksacks.

"Thought you might need these." Mercedes hands her the items and she takes them, giving her what she hopes is a grateful look. She tries to give Santana her Cheerios jacket to put on, but her girl doesn't react, she stays where she is, She drops the backpacks, and moves over to Santana, nudging her to get her to move. "Come on, I don't want you freezing to death on me."

Santana pushes off the car, and allows her to put the jacket on her. She doesn't miss the fact that she won't even look at the other two TroubleTones though. Brittany zips the jacket up, then once again presses a soft kiss to her temple.

Santana shoves her hands in her pockets, clearly glad of the warmth, then slinks back away from the group, until once more she's against the car.

Brittany grabs Santana's backpack and starts digging through it looking for the car keys.

Mercedes and Sugar are exchanging worried glances, and she doesn't know why until she notices that her hands are shaking. Actually not just her hands, but her whole body. She finally finds what she's looking for and wraps her fingers around them, trying desperately to stop trembling.

Santana's watching her now too, and Brittany knows that she's torn, wanting to comfort her but not being physically able to, too drained, too shattered to do anything but keep breathing right now. She doesn't want her to feel like that, she wants to be the strong one for once, wants to be the one to be there for Santana, doesn't want her worrying about her on top of everything that's happened.

Mercedes seems to finally make a decision and steps towards her. "Brittany, I don't think you should be driving."

"I could give you two a ride home," Sugar offers. "And Mercedes can drive Santana's car."

Brittany didn't even know that Mercedes could drive. "Santana doesn't let anyone else drive her car."

Sugar frowns at her. "You were going to drive it."

"Well yeah, but I don't count." Her eyes dart from the girls to Santana, wanting some guidance, but she's just gone back to studying the floor.

"Look, the last thing your girl needs right now is you wrapping her car around a tree or something." Mercedes has a point. "We just want to help."

Brittany isn't sure where she appears from but Quinn is suddenly standing with them. "What's going on?" She's been in what they call ScaryQuinn mode for a while now, and the way she's glaring at Mercedes tells her that's still very much true.

It's Sugar that answers her. "We're trying to make sure Brittany doesn't kill her and Santana in a fiery crash."

Well that image doesn't help her to stop shaking, if anything it makes it worse.

Quinn just rolls her eyes and turns to Brittany. "Keys." She holds her hand out and Brittany gives them to her. The conditioning to do as Quinn Fabray tells her is still too ingrained in her to even consider not doing as she's asked.

Quinn unlocks the car, and nods towards the backdoors. "Lopez, get in. I don't have all night." Like her, Santana can't fight it, after all those years spent as Quinn's number two it's too easy to just follow orders, let Quinn take control. "Come on, B. Lets get her home."

"No, my place. We're taking her to my place."

Quinn just nods, and she knows she understands. Brittany scrambles after Santana sliding into the backseat, slamming the door shut behind them.

Santana is sitting as far away from her as she can, pressed against the far door, staring out the window. Brittany stays where she is, suddenly not sure how she's supposed to act now that they have an audience. All she can do is take her cues from Santana, and judging by the distance she's put between them, holding her and kissing her like she's never going to let go is out of the question.

Quinn speaks briefly with Mercedes, and then is climbing into the driver's seat. She doesn't say anything, just starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot.

They haven't gone three blocks before she notices that Santana is rubbing furiously at her eyes, trying to stop the tears that are starting to fall, biting down on her bottom lip to stop the sobs from escaping. Quinn's watching in the rear view mirror, and when their gazes meet, Quinn's eyes narrow, and Brittany knows what she's asking. _What the hell are you doing? Why aren't you doing anything? Help her_.

She reaches out, pulling Santana into her lap. She fights her, of course she does, her eyes flitting over to Quinn in panic. Brittany whispers against her ear. "Relax, it's just Quinn. It's just Quinn."

It must be enough for now as Santana stops struggling and sinks into her, burying her face into the crook of her neck as Brittany rubs circles across her back.

They finally make it to Brittany's house and Quinn follows them inside. Her mom meets them at the bottom of the stairs, immediately full of questions. She backs off though when Quinn just shakes her head at her, though she does give Brittany a look that clearly means they will have to talk about this.

She leads Santana to her room, and sits her down on the edge of the bed. She then busies herself trying to find more comfortable clothes for them to change into.

Quinn is hovering in the doorway, as if she has something to say. Eventually she walks over to Santana and kneels before her, resting one hand on her thigh, and cupping her face with the other. When Quinn then goes on to rest their foreheads together, Brittany can't help the surge of jealousy that runs through her body, but she manages to contain it, just continues going through her wardrobe, pretending not to be able to hear their whispers.

"You're going to be fine, S. You know that, right?"

"I know. I have Brittany."

Quinn just nods, presses a quick kiss to the top of Santana's head and then stands. She walks over to Brittany and surprises her by hugging her tightly. "Call me if you need anything."

She hugs her back, tells her thanks, and then Quinn is gone, leaving them alone.

"I'm sorry, Britt."

She doesn't like it when Santana apologises, it never leads anywhere good. She doesn't even really dare ask, but finds she can't stop herself. "For what?"

"For everything." Santana shrugs, rubbing at her eyes once more.

"Honey, you didn't cause any of this."

"Didn't I? God, if I wasn't so stupid and hadn't gone after Finn like that. If I'd just let it go when you asked me to."

Now she's the one kneeling in front of Santana, taking both of her hands in her own. "Don't. Don't you dare defend him. Don't you ever start thinking this is your fault, or that you deserved this, that you were asking for it, because it's not true. This happened because Finn is a douchebag. He's the only one to blame here. I only wish I'd been the one to hit him, then you wouldn't be in trouble."

"I think that's the least of my worries."

They're interrupted by a knock on the door. Brittany doesn't move, just looks back over her shoulder, but she's acutely aware of how Santana has frozen

Her mom is in the doorway, a worried expression on her face. "Girls, do you want to tell me what's going on?"

She looks back to Santana who shakes her head, a silent plea for her not to say anything. "We're fine, Mom. Everything's fine."

For a moment she doesn't think her mom will let it go, but then she just nods. "Okay, but we'll be downstairs when you're ready to talk."

As soon as she's gone, Santana stands and starts pacing her room. "Listen, this campaign doesn't mention you, so if you want we can keep you out of this." Santana nods, and Brittany knows she's mostly talking to herself here, trying to work out a plan. "That way your parents don't need to find out. We can pretend Finn is right. That I'm just a dyke with an unrequited crush on her best friend, that you're not..."

"No!" She didn't mean to shout the word, but it at least gets Santana's attention, and she stops mid step, her eyes wide, questioning. "No. We're not doing that. Don't even suggest that kind of thing. Don't ever suggest that kind of thing. Do you really think I would ever agree to that?"

"No, course not." She hates that Santana looks unsure of her answer, as if she still doesn't quite believe that Brittany isn't going anywhere. "I just..." Santana sighs and she drops back down to the bed. "I wish I could protect you from all this shit."

"Santana, I don't want protecting. I don't need protecting. And it totally sucks that it happened this way, it does, but if it means that I finally get to tell people that you're mine, tell everyone how much I love you, then do you really think I'm gonna miss the chance to do that?" She closes the distance between them and once again pulls Santana into her arms. "I love you, and I've told you, we're in this together."

Santana collapses against her chest, her body shaking now as she can no longer keep from crying. "I wasn't ready. I wanted to be. For you. But I wasn't ready, Britt. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, it's okay."

She doesn't know how long she stays there holding Santana, but she does so until the sobs have stopped. When they have she pulls back so she can see Santana's face. "I think we should tell my mom and dad."

There's panic in Santana's eyes and she starts shaking her head. "No, you can't."

"Honey, they're worried about us, and it isn't fair to keep them wondering what's going on."

"I can't do it. I can't face them right now."

"Then okay." Brittany won't push this, won't try and force Santana to do anything she doesn't want to right now, but she has to do this, for herself, if not for Santana. She picks up the T-shirt and sweatpants she'd dug out and presses them into Santana's hands. "Here. Get changed. I'll go talk to them." She turns to leave the room, but stops in the doorway. "You're not going to be gone when I come back, are you? Promise me you'll still be here."

"Why? Just in case they want to throw me out their house?"

"You know them better than that, Santana." She's a little disappointed that Santana would even think that's a possibility.

"Sorry." Santana drops her gaze to the floor. "I'm not gonna run. Not this time. I promise."

Satisfied, Brittany takes a deep breath then slowly makes her way downstairs. She finds her parents in the kitchen. Her mom is sitting at the table, her dad standing leaning against the counter. Both of them are cradling cups of coffee and they both look worried. Now that she's down here, she finds she has no idea what to even say to them. When her mom looks up at her, she can't seem to do anything except burst into tears.

Her mom's on her feet and quickly ushering her into a chair. Her dad pours her some coffee and slides it onto the table in front of her.

Her mom sits down beside her. "Brittany, what is it? What's happened? Whatever it is, you can tell us. We won't be mad, and you won't be in trouble, but you need to tell us."

"It's the pizza guy."

"What pizza guy?" Her mom looks at her dad, but he only shrugs.

Brittany wipes at her eyes, but she can't seem to stop crying now that she's started. Her mom pulls her into a hug, and she just buries her head into her chest.

Her mom asks her again, "Honey, what pizza guy?"

She knows she needs to explain, that's the whole reason she came down here, but she can't even get the words out.

"Reggie the Sauce Salazar." Brittany spins around at the sound of Santana's voice to find she's standing in the doorway, arms wrapped tightly around herself and looking like she's ready to bolt at any second. "He...there's this..." Her eyes had been fixed on the floor but she looks up now, meeting Brittany's gaze, and Brittany offers her a small nod. She takes a deep breath then continues, "He's made a campaign ad. A campaign ad that tells everyone that I'm...that I'm a..." She sighs, and for a moment Brittany thinks she's going to run, or pass out, but then she looks up. "That I'm gay. I'm gay." The second the words are out her mouth, something seems to break inside Santana and she starts to cry and Brittany wonders if that's actually the first time Santana's even said those words out loud.

She starts to pull out of her mom's arms to go to Santana, but her mom doesn't let her. Instead her dad crosses over to Santana and places an arm around her shoulder, leading her over to join them.

Her mom keeps one arm around her and slides the other around Santana, pulling her in to join their hug. "Oh, girls."

Her dad slams a fist down on the kitchen counter, making them all jump. "Son of a bitch. What's he thinking going after a kid like that?" She doesn't think she's ever heard her dad swear before now.

Her mom warns, "Jeff."

"This is that Sylvester woman's fault, isn't it? I've seen her negative ads against Burt Hummel. And what, this is payback? Well he isn't going to get away with it. There must be something we can do to stop this ad from airing."

"Jeff, not now." Her mom stands and makes Santana take her seat. "Getting angry won't help anyone right now."

Brittany reaches for Santana's hands, taking both of them in her own. "Mom, Dad, there's something else." She waits for some sign from Santana before she continues, and when her girl nods slightly, she looks over at her parents. "I'm in love with Santana. We're together."

Her parents just stare at her, then her mom shakes her head. "Honey, not that I want to be anticlimactic here, but we kinda knew that already."

Her dad places a hand over his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. "For one thing, you two aren't as quiet as you seem to think you are."

Santana looks horrified and tries to pull her hands free from Brittany's grasp, but Brittany keeps hold.

Her mom sighs. "Jeff, that really isn't helping."

"What? They're not. I'm still traumatized by the whole thing, so why shouldn't they share my pain?"

Santana lets out another sob and her mom glares at him. "Because can't you see the poor girl's upset enough without you trying to make jokes about it?"

"She knows I'm only teasing. Right, Santana?"

Brittany scowls at him. "No, Dad, she doesn't."

Santana tries to stand. "I should go."

Brittany tries to sit her back down, and her mom places a hand on her shoulder to stop her, but it's her dad that speaks. "Santana, you're in no state to go anywhere. You're staying here tonight and tomorrow we're going to work out what we're going to do about all this. As a family. Because like it or not, you _are _part of this family."

Her mom nods. "Brittany, why don't you take your girlfriend upstairs. You two need to get some rest and we'll talk more in the morning."

Brittany pulls Santana to her feet and leads her upstairs. Once they're back inside her room, Brittany closes the door behind them and leans against it. Santana hovers in the centre of the room, and Brittany suddenly has no idea what to do. "San, tell me what you need, just tell me what you need."

"I just need you, Britt, I just need you."

She has Santana in her arms in seconds and carries them over to the bed. Being there for Santana, well that's something that she knows exactly how to do.


	7. I Kissed A Girl  Part 1

_Something's not right. Santana knows that much, but she can't quite figure out what exactly. She's wandering the hallways of McKinley but no matter which way she goes, she doesn't seem to be getting anywhere. All she keeps finding is more and more hallways. The fact that every single one of these hallways is completely deserted isn't helping matters. There's a voice in the back of her brain that is trying to tell her something, trying to give her the heads up on something, but no matter how hard she tries she can't seem to understand it. She needs to find Brittany. If she can find Brittany then everything will make sense, right? Everything will be fine if she's got Brittany at her side._

_She starts to walk faster but when she rounds the next corner she only finds another empty hallway. Soon she's running, but still only finds more hallways. She's starting to give up when she rounds another corner and collides straight into someone's chest. "What the..."_

_She's totally about to go all Lima Heights on whoever wasn't quick enough to move out of her way, but when she looks up into the face of Finn Hudson, the words die in her throat. For some reason he seems taller, or maybe it's her that's shrunk. She feels like she can't breathe, she just wishes she knew why. She backs away from him, not liking the smirk that is playing on his lips. As she takes another step back though she bangs into somebody else and she spins around to find the corridor is no longer deserted. In fact it's now full with people. The Glee Club are there. So are the Trouble Tones. And Cheerios. The football team. But even worse is that it isn't just students and teachers that crowd the hallway. No, her family are all standing there too. Her Mami and Papi. Her Abuela. Also Aunties and Uncles, distant cousins she hasn't seen in years. She doesn't understand why they'd all be in Lima, let alone at her school._

_She turns back to Finn and immediately wishes she hadn't. He's still wearing that stupid grin and she wants desperately to knock it off his face, but she finds she can't move._

_"Hey, Santana."_

_The words cut through her. She's heard them before, she knows she has but the memory of them is hazy for some reason, though she thinks it really shouldn't be._

_"Why don't you just come out the closet?"_

_No, no, this can't be happening. Finn keeps talking but the words no longer make any sense to her. She somehow manages to spin around, her eyes immediately searching for her parents, her Abuela, but she regrets it when she finds their faces are twisted with disgust, horror, disappointment. She quickly searches the crowd, looking for that flash of blonde hair that will tell her that everything will be okay, but she can't find any trace of Brittany._

_An arm wraps around her neck and she's pulled back against a solid chest. She struggles to break free but she can't. They're too strong. Finn. It has to be Finn. It's confirmed when his voice is suddenly whispering in her ear. "I think you're a coward. But it's okay. I'm going to help you. I'm going to make sure that everybody knows exactly who you are, what you are." There's a flash of metal in his other hand, and she starts to fight harder, but all it does is make it harder to breathe._

_Finn laughs. "It's okay. I know what I'm doing. I am the hero after all. And I'm gonna start by showing everyone who you really are inside."_

_She can't do anything but watch as he lifts the knife and plunges it into her chest..._

She jerks into a sitting position, her heart throwing itself against her ribcage, and she finds she still can't breathe. Her hand automatically reaches for her neck, checking for arms that might still be strangling her, but she finds nothing there.

There's movement beside her. "Santana?"

She starts to calm down as her eyes adjust to the dark and she realises she's in Brittany's room, in Brittany's bed. With the blonde lying next to her. She's about to tell Brittany she's fine and to go back to sleep when she's hit by the sudden need to vomit.

She's not even sure how she manages to make it to the bathroom, but she's so very thankful she does, and immediately she's hunched over the toilet. She can't even remember the last time she ate anything, but her body doesn't seem to care and is still determined that she throw up every last bit of her stomach contents. She's still heaving when she hears footsteps as Brittany enters, kneeling down behind her and holding her hair back.

Eventually her body agrees to co-operate and she's able to pull back. She shifts so she's sitting with her back pressed against the bathtub, draws her knees up to the chest and closes her eyes.

She hears Brittany moving around the room, then the sound of water running, the toilet flushing. She feels a hand gently touch her arm, and then Brittany is trying to guide her to her feet. She doesn't have the energy to fight her, but doesn't have the energy to be much help either, so it takes Brittany some struggling to get her standing and when she does, she has to wrap an arm around her to stop her from just sinking back to the floor again.

Brittany moves her hands so they're resting against the sink, and when she seems sure that Santana can support her own weight, she walks away. She's back in seconds though, her arm once more sliding around her waist. "San? Here, take this."

She opens one eye slowly to find Brittany trying to push a glass of water into her hands. She takes it gratefully and rinses her mouth out. She doesn't dare drink any though, just in case she can't keep it down, she really doesn't want to spend the rest of the night lent over the toilet.

Once she's finished, Brittany makes her sit down on the edge of the bath. She then picks up a damp cloth from somewhere and places it against Santana's forehead. "You're red hot."

"I'm fine." Santana tries to swat her hand away, but Brittany just grabs her arm with her free one to stop her.

"You're not fine."

She closes her eyes again and just lets Brittany continue.

"Was it that nightmare again?" Brittany's voice shakes slightly, as if she doesn't really want to know the answer. "The one you kept having last summer?"

Her eyes snap open. "No." Brittany doesn't look like she believes her, and maybe a touch hurt that she'd lie to her. Santana sighs and removes the cloth from Brittany's hands, then drops it into the sink. "Yeah. Kind of anyway." She reaches out to take hold of Brittany's hands with her own. "It was different this time."

"Different how?"

"More Finn, less you. It sucked, but whatever." She shrugs, hoping that if she at least acts like it's no big deal, Brittany might just take pity on her enough to pretend that it isn't. For a moment, she thinks her ploy isn't going to work, but then Brittany just tugs on her hands.

"Come on, let's get you back into bed. Maybe we can get another couple of hours sleep before we have to get up for school."

Santana shakes her head. She doesn't think she could get back to sleep if she tried, that nightmare is still too fresh in her mind, and she has no plans to revisit it any time soon, and if that means not sleeping for a while, then whatever it takes.

Brittany bends down slightly and studies her. "Is that a no to sleep or to school?"

"Both?" She had meant sleep, but she's not exactly looking forward to having to step foot inside McKinley High either.

"Wouldn't you only be in more trouble if you don't go in tomorrow?"

Brittany's right, of course she's right. "Guess I can always hope they suspend me for slapping Finnocence."

"They can't do that, can they?" Brittany looks worried and she wishes she hadn't said anything, even though she suspects that might be exactly what happens. "It was like self-defense. How can they punish you for it? It's not fair, it's just not fair."

"Life isn't fair, Britt." She hadn't intended for the words to sound so bitter, especially when it only makes Brittany start to cry. She pulls herself to her feet and leads Brittany back to the bed. Even if she doesn't plan on sleeping, there's no reason for Brittany not to. She climbs onto the bed and lies down on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Brittany does the same beside her. It only takes a few seconds for Brittany's hand to reach out in search of hers. Santana takes hold of it, lacing their fingers together.

They lie in silence for a while until Santana can't handle it any longer. "Would you be pissed if I said I really needed a cigarette right now?" Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Brittany turn her head to look at her and is surprised to find the usual disapproval isn't there.

"Only if you aren't going to share."

Brittany never smokes when she's sober, and Santana suddenly regrets bringing it up, but she's craving nicotine. She needs something to take the edge off and it's either that or alcohol. Or there's a couple of other things that would work but she knows Brittany wouldn't stand by and let her do either of them.

She crosses the room to search her purse for the carton of cigarettes and lighter, and then walks over to open the window. She's stopped by Brittany placing a hand on her arm though.

When she raises an eyebrow, Brittany just shrugs. "Can we go sit on the porch instead?"

She nods and lets Brittany hold her hand and lead her downstairs. They've both snuck out of Brittany's house enough times to know exactly which floorboards to step over to avoid waking anyone else up and are soon safely outside.

Santana walks over to the front step and sits down. It isn't quite so dark any more, the sun will be rising soon, which means she doesn't have long before she's forced to face what her life has now become. She lights a cigarette and hands it to Brittany, then lights one for herself. Brittany sits down beside her and takes a small drag, coughing slightly as she does so. Normally Santana wouldn't be able to resist teasing her a little about how she still hasn't been able to master the art of smoking, but it doesn't feel right to do that right now.

"Are you really worried about going back to school?" Brittany keeps her eyes on the ground.

"I hadn't really thought about it til now. I was too busy freaking out about having to tell my family."

"When are you going to?"

Santana takes another hit off her cigarette. "I don't know. Not yet. I can't face them yet. I just can't."

Brittany places a hand on top of hers. "I'm so proud of you, you know?"

"Why?" She turns her head and frowns, not seeing what she's done that could possibly have made Brittany proud of her.

"For not pushing me away. For not fleeing town when I bet that's all you wanted to do last night."

She drops her gaze. The thought had crossed her mind, and if she'd been sure that Brittany would have gone with her, then she'd currently be hundreds of miles away from Lima.

Brittany squeezes her hand until she looks at her again. "And hey, my parents know now. So that's half the job done, right? And that wasn't too bad."

"Apart from the part where your dad told us he's heard us having sex, you mean? No, guess it wasn't. I just wish I was sure my parents would be as cool about it as yours."

"Maybe they will be."

"Maybe." She doubts it though.

Brittany lifts her hand to her lips and kisses her knuckles. "Thanks by the way."

"For what?"

"For talking to my parents with me."

Santana just shrugs. "Like you said, we do this together, right?"

"Right."

"Today is gonna suck though. Like really suck."

"I know."

"And Britt, I can't promise that I'm not going to freak out, or push you away at some point, but I can promise that I'll try not to."

"Okay. And how about I promise not to let you push me away?"

Santana slides closer to her and rests her head on her shoulder. "Sounds good to me."

They sit like that until the sun has come up. The house is still quiet when they go back inside, though a quick glance at the clock tells Santana it won't be for long. She rubs at her forehead. "I'm in serious need of caffeine if I'm going to get through today."

"Well you know where the kitchen is." Brittany stops at the bottom of the stairs and turns around to gently push her down the hallway. At Santana's incredulous expression, Brittany just leans in and kisses her cheek, then shoves her again. "What? You know I don't know how to make coffee."

"Why do I think you use not being able to do something as an excuse to get out of things you don't want to do?"

Brittany grins at her. "Because sometimes maybe I do." She kisses her again, on the lips this time. "I'm still not making you coffee though." She bounds up a couple of steps to avoid Santana's arm that tries to snake around her waist to pull her back to her. She laughs. "I'll be in the shower if you need me." Then she's gone before Santana can even begin to argue with her.

Santana groans. "It's too early for this, Pierce. Too early." She stumbles through into the kitchen and maybe she doesn't try to be as quiet as she could be as she goes through the cupboards and starts to make a pot of coffee. Maybe she'd get just a little bit of satisfaction in waking up the leprechaun. She wonders just how much trouble she'd be in with Brittany if Irish woke up to find her standing over him with a kitchen knife. Probably a lot. She's still trying to decide whether it's worth it, when she hears footsteps heading towards her. She looks up to find Jeff entering the room, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. She immediately finds guilty, not having planned on waking Brittany's parents up.

He stops when he sees her and frowns. "Didn't expect you to be up so early. Normally nothing can wake you in a morning. I know that because of all those times my daughter decided bouncing on the bed was the best way to try and wake you up. Not that it ever worked. It woke everybody else in the house up but that's when I knew Santana Lopez can sleep through anything." He leans against the counter, yawning again. "So what does get you out of bed so early? Or do I not want to know?"

"Couldn't sleep." He doesn't question her on it, and she's grateful for that. When the coffee's ready she pours him a cup and places it on the counter in front of him.

"Thanks." He watches her, his head resting on one hand and she knows he wants to ask her something.

Once she has her own coffee, she slides onto one of the stools and stares at him. Eventually she gets tired of waiting for him to speak. "What?"

"I was just wondering if you were planning on telling your parents today?"

"Oh." It's only just hit her that they might not want her hanging around their house all the time now that they know the truth about her and Brittany. "I wasn't. I just need..." She looks down at the cup she's cradling in her hands. "Don't worry, Mr P. It's cool. I won't come back here after school. I'll go home." She doesn't want to, but this isn't her house, and she'll respect their wishes. She won't risk doing anything that would lead to them banning Brittany from seeing her.

"What?"

She risks glancing up and finds Jeff looks lost. She needs him to know that she understands. "If I'm in the way, then..."

"Santana, you're not in the way. You know you're always welcome here, and I'll personally be offended if you don't come over after school. That wasn't why I was asking."

"Then why?"

"You're worried about telling them. And I'm worried about why you're worried about telling them."

"They're my parents." That should be reason enough, shouldn't it?

He takes a drink of his coffee. "Was Brittany scared of telling us?"

Santana's not sure what he wants to hear, so decides to go with the truth. "A little I think. Not as much as I was about telling you. Brittany, well, she's always been a hell of a lot braver than I am, you know?"

He smiles softly at that. "Yeah, she's a lot braver than all of us."

"And besides she was so sure that you guys would be okay with it."

"But you don't think your parents will be?"

"That's the worst part. I really don't know." She can feel her eyes starting to water and blinks desperately to try and get them to stop. "I think I'd actually be able to handle it better if I knew for sure that they'd kick me out. Least I could plan for that then. But not knowing? Not knowing sucks."

"I don't think you're giving your folks enough credit. Even if it takes them a while to get their heads around it, I don't see how they'd be willing to lose you over it. You're their daughter."

"You say that, but it happens all the time. Parents disowning their kids because they're gay. So why wouldn't they throw me out?"

"Guess you won't know until you tell them. But I reckon they just might surprise you."

"And what if you're wrong?"

He straightens up. "Then it's their loss. And if the worst does happen, then you come over here and tell me, and I'll go over there and try to talk some sense into them. And if that doesn't work, well guess you'll just have to move in here until they do come round."

She's not sure she heard him correctly. "Wait, hold up, you'd let me live here?"

He looks at her like she's crazy. "We're hardly gonna see you out on the streets, are we? Besides you practically live here half the time anyway. And with that Flanagan boy living in the basement, we may as well be running a halfway house as it is, so what's one more?"

She slides off the stool and is hugging him before she even realises she's doing it. She doesn't know which of them is more surprised and embarrassed by her actions, so she just as quickly pulls away, gesturing towards the door. "I should go get ready for school."

She stops in the doorway though and turns back to him. "Mr P?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He just waves her off and goes back to his coffee, probably worried she might hug him again if he says anything else.

She goes back to Brittany's room to find her sitting at her desk, drying her hair. She looks up as Santana enters, pouting slightly. "I thought you were gonna come join me? Did you really choose coffee over your hot girlfriend? Your naked, hot girlfriend? Your wet, naked, hot girlfriend?"

Okay, so maybe now she's regretting that decision a little bit, well more than a little bit. She sinks down onto the bed, letting her back hit the mattress. "Your parents are awesome, like totally awesome."

"Well duh. They have to be to have raised me."

She props herself up on her elbows, and rolls her eyes, even though Brittany just might have a point there. "I mean it. They have no reason to give a shit about what happens to me. I'm not their kid, but they are so fucking awesome that..." She trails off, wiping at her eyes as she starts crying again.

Brittany moves to sit next to her, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her head against her chest. "Hey, my parents love you. And they love you because you're awesome, not because they are. The sooner you realise that there are people other than me that care about you, Santana, the sooner you'll realise that you can get through this. We're all going to do everything we can to make sure of that."

Santana doesn't bother trying to stop herself crying now, just sinks deeper against Brittany. Maybe just maybe she might be able to do this afterall.

* * *

><p>"You look after that girl, Brittany. I get the feeling everything's going to get a lot worse before it gets better."<p>

That was what her dad had told her this morning when he'd pulled her aside as she and Santana were leaving for school, and those words have been swirling around her head ever since. She'd been hoping that her dad would turn out to be wrong. Afterall Santana had seemed to be doing okay this morning, apart from that one nightmare and the throwing up anyway, and the bursting into tears, but she hadn't seemed to be a complete wreck. But the second they'd pulled up in the parking lot, the fear had been back in her eyes, and she'd been quiet, distant, and had flinched and pulled away every time Brittany had gone to touch her. So Brittany had backed off and given her space. She had wanted to go with Santana to see Principle Figgins, but Santana had insisted she'd be fine and that she really didn't need Brittany to hold her hand. So now she's sat in the library with the rest of the Trouble Tones while they wait to find out Santana's fate. Mercedes is in grumpy Mercedes mode and Brittany can't help wondering if Coach Sylvester has banned Tots from the cafeteria again. The other three Cheerios have been very quiet, as if they have no idea what to say to her. Brittany thinks she really should learn their names at some point as she didn't quite believe Santana when she had insisted that their names were Things One, Two and Three. It seems rude to ask at this point though. And Sugar? Well Sugar is Sugar, and is openly pushing to take over Santana's parts in their numbers for Sectionals. Thankfully she doesn't have to waste her energy on stopping that, as Mercedes has made it clear that will only happen over her dead body. Something Sugar probably doesn't have a problem with but Brittany's sure Mercedes can take care of herself.

She's not really been listening to the conversation for a while now, she's just sitting staring at her cellphone, hoping Santana will text her soon, but when Santana's name is mentioned, then they have her full attention.

"If they suspend her, then that's us screwed for Sectionals." Mercedes sighs and rests her head in her hands. "Like seriously screwed, you guys."

Thing Two leans forward, keeping her voice low as she asks, "Do you think that was Hudson's plan? To sabotage us by getting Santana suspended?"

"Oh please." Mercedes rolls her eyes. "Have you met Finn Hudson? He's too dumb to come up with anything as sneaky as that."

Thing Three doesn't look convinced. "But what about that girlfriend of his? Maybe she put him up to it. I've always thought she was an ambitious little freak. Maybe this was her revenge on Santana for making her life hell for all these years."

"Rachel might be ambitious, but she would never do that." Mercedes shakes her head. "This was Finn being Finn is all."

Sugar frowns and sighs. "I still don't get it. I don't get what Finn did."

There's groans from all around the table, and everyone looks to Mercedes to deal with this. "You know what Finn did. He outed her. In a crowded hallway. And now..."

"I know that, but I don't understand what the big deal is."

When Brittany snaps the pencil she'd been playing with in half, everybody turns their attention to her, and she wonders if they'd forgotten that she was even in the room. She turns to Sugar, trying her best to imitate Santana's death glare, and is satisfied when Sugar edges her chair back away from her slightly.

"I only meant, was it really a secret? Because if so it had to be like the worse kept secret ever. You two were so obvious about it that I didn't even know it was a secret. So why did Finn even do it? If everyone already knew anyway?"

Nobody answers her. Brittany guesses that none of them know why. She thinks it's because Finn Hudson is a homophobic dick, but she keeps that thought to herself.

Mercedes tries to change the topic of conversation. "Doesn't matter why he did it, we just need to focus on kicking their asses at Sectionals."

"Which is exactly what we're going to do." They all jump a little at the sound of Santana's voice, none of them having seen her approach. She glares at Sugar who immediately jumps to her feet and allows Santana to take her chair. She sits down and Brittany has to fight to stop herself from reaching out to take hold of her hand.

Mercedes raises an eyebrow. "Tell me that means Figgins didn't suspend you."

"Oh please, like he'd dare. You don't mess with the top bitch at this school and Figgins knows it, girl. And we are so on for Sectionals. We're going to beat New Directions so hard that I actually feel a little bit sorry for them."

Something in Santana's eyes tells Brittany that isn't the full story, but she doesn't dare question her in front of the others.

If the look Mercedes shoots her is anything to go by, it looks like she believes Santana about as much as she does. "Let's not get too confident. Just because it doesn't look like they're got any songs together yet, that's when they're more of a threat and we all know it."

Santana rolls her eyes. "I suppose nobody is better at halfassing a performance than they are."

"Yeah, well we're going to beat them by being better rehearsed and not letting ourselves get distracted by any drama. So I want everyone to keep out of trouble, starting with y'all getting to class." Mercedes folds her arms and looks pointedly at Things One, Two and Three, who are immediately on their feet and leaving the room. As soon as they've gone, Mercedes turns her attention back to Santana. "So what really happened with Figgins?"

Brittany tenses, waiting for Santana to lash out, but it doesn't happen. Instead she just sinks down in her seat, clasping her hands together on the table in front of her. She keeps her eyes down, not looking at any of them. "Finn lied and said that I didn't slap him."

Brittany doesn't get it, doesn't understand why Finn would suddenly choose to help her. "Why?"

Santana only shrugs, and Brittany wonders if she doesn't know, or if she simply doesn't want to say.

"I'm guessing there was a catch?" Mercedes asks.

"He wants us all to join the Glee Club for their lesson of the week."

"Which is?" Brittany really doesn't like the sound of this.

"He didn't say, and I really didn't want to know."

Sugar had been hanging back, and Brittany had forgot that she hadn't left with the rest of the Cheerios. Now she takes one of the empty seats. "Wait, so Hudson is blackmailing you? And you're just going to let him?" She turns to look at Mercedes. "And we're not going to do anything about it?"

Santana growls, "Listen, Sugar Snap, what do you expect me to do? If I get suspended then I miss Sectionals and I've worked too damn hard, we've all worked too damn hard to throw that away. So if that means I have to sit through a Musical After School Special on how violence is bad or whatever, then I'm gonna suck it up." She points first at Sugar, then at Mercedes. "And so are you two, or else I'll be going all Lima Heights and ends you both."

Sugar nods towards Brittany. "What about her? How come she doesn't get threatened with violence?"

Santana scowls. "Because Britt's my girl, and I already know she's got my back."

"Damn right I do." Brittany decides to risk placing a hand on top of Santana's, and whilst Santana does flinch a little, she doesn't pull away and instead gives her a grateful smile.

Mercedes is shaking her head. "Santana, we all have your back. And not just because we need you on the Trouble Tones."

Sugar sits forward a little in her chair. "Yeah. If you want me to take care of Finn Hudson for you, I will. Because I could totally take him in a fight."

Santana raises an eyebrow, and Brittany gets the feeling she just might be considering taking Sugar up on that offer. Brittany squeezes her hand to get her attention, and when she looks at her, she shakes her head. "No."

"But Britt, she offered. Wouldn't it be like rude to turn down her help?"

"No."

Santana sighs. "Sorry, as satisfying at it would be, guess it's a no."

Sugar looks almost as disappointed as Santana does. "But..."

Mercedes cuts her off. "She said no. Besides we've only just avoided having one of our team suspended, I don't think we should be pushing our luck."

Santana tilts her head to the side, and studies Sugar. "Although, it wouldn't be a massive loss if she didn't compete, would it? It's not like we ever let her sing."

Mercedes leans back to look at Sugar now as well. "That is true, but we would need a replacement. Doesn't Coach Sylvester kinda owe you anyway? This whole thing is pretty much her fault as much as it is Hudson's, right?"

"Right, so I'll just get her to loan us one more Cheerio to make the numbers up and we're sorted. And they'd be better at dancing than Sugar anyway, so I see no bad in that scenario."

Sugar is biting her bottom lip, her head swiveling back and forth between Santana and Mercedes as they talk. "But that's not fair. It's my group! You can't perform without me. You can't."

Mercedes can't stop from laughing any longer, and even Santana is grinning by this point.

Brittany just shakes her head, reaching out to poke Santana in the side. "Stop it. You're being mean."

Santana tries to dodge away. "Okay, okay. We'll play nice. Right, Wheezy?"

Mercedes laughs again. "God, you are so whipped."

That stops Santana from smiling. "Am not."

Sugar clearly doesn't want to miss the chance to gang up on Santana, now that no-one is picking on her. "You totally are."

Santana glares at Mercedes, but it doesn't have any effect. "Brittany, will you tell them I'm not?"

Brittany considers lying, but the truth is so much more fun. "Oh but honey, you kinda are."

Santana lets out a huff and pulls her hand away from Brittany's, folding her arms across her chest. "That's it! You're all going on my list."

Brittany glances over to the other two and shrugs. "Don't worry. It's a really long list. It'll take her ages to get to us."

"I hate all of you." Santana sinks lower down in her seat, clearly sulking.

Mercedes smiles softly at them. "We love you too, Satan. And I meant it when I said we were on your side. You just let us know what you need, yeah?"

Santana shifts awkwardly and Brittany knows she has no idea how to react. Brittany moves her chair closer to her, so she can slide an arm around her and Santana gives in at pretending to be mad and rests her head on her shoulder. "We'll get you through this, San. You can count on us. We promise."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I had been planning on keeping this fic to one chapter per episode, but the show glossed over so many important things in I Kissed A Girl that it looks like it's gonna take me a few chapters to cover everything I want to for that episode.**

**Huge thanks to everyone that has reviewed so far. It really helps to know what's working and what's not. **


	8. I Kissed A Girl  Part 2

"You okay?"

Brittany keeps asking her that and it's taking everything Santana has not to snap at her in response. She inhales sharply. "I'm fine." She slams her locker shut, trying to ignore the way Brittany is studying her, her eyes full of concern. Okay so maybe fine is too strong of a word, but she's trying to hold everything together, she really is, which isn't easy when New Directions have apparently decided to make her life a living hell. She thought she'd actually been quite restrained yesterday considering she pretty much had to sit there while Kurt and Blaine preached to her on the joys of being gay. She's just not sure what to expect today, not sure which one of them she is going to be forced to listen to next. She hopes it isn't Berry, as she doesn't think she'll be able to remain quite as calm as she has been over this whole thing with Manhands belting in front of her.

Brittany kicks at the floor. "What if we don't go?"

It's not the first time Brittany has suggested they simply skip Glee rehearsal and she wishes that was an option. "If we don't go, then SuperFinn will go running to Figgins and I get a two week vacation." She pauses and considers that. "Although that might not be such a bad thing."

"This sucks." Brittany sighs and leans against the lockers.

Santana can only shrug. It's not like she can disagree with her, but she just doesn't seem to have any choice but to grin and bear it.

Brittany looks up at her and Santana can't miss the anger in her eyes. "It's not okay, you know? It's not okay for them to do this to you."

"They're trying to help." She's not sure why she feels the need to defend them.

"Yeah? Well they suck at it."

"It's Glee Club. What don't they suck at?" Santana bumps her shoulder into Brittany's, and that earns her a small smile at least, but she can tell Brittany is still pissed off about all this.

"It still doesn't make it right." Brittany looks like she wants to say more, but she doesn't get the chance as Coach Sylvester is stalking towards them.

"Sandbags, my office. Now." Coach Sylvester doesn't even slow down, just keeps on walking.

Normally Santana wouldn't even hesitate to follow her, but the memory of the last time she was summoned to Coach's office is still fresh in her mind and she freezes. She's been expecting this, been waiting to be kicked off the Cheerios now that Coach Sylvester knows the truth, but now it's about to become a reality it fills her with dread.

Thankfully Brittany appears to still be able to function and she finds herself being pushed along the hallway after Coach Sylvester's retreating form. Once they make it to her office, Santana quickly turns to Brittany, not wanting to be left alone, but she finds she can't bring herself to ask her to stay, can't quite allow herself to be so pathetic that she needs to cling to her girlfriend for support all the time. Instead she finds herself just grabbing for Brittany's arm.

Brittany places her hands on her shoulders and guides her into the office, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Relax. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

When they both enter, Santana half expects Coach Sylvester to tell Brittany to leave but she doesn't, she only gestures for them to sit down. Santana's just thankful that somehow her legs are suddenly co-operating again and she's able to walk over to the desk and collapse into one of the chairs. Brittany hangs back to close the door, then sits next to her.

Coach Sylvester leans forward on her desk. "Santana, I want to apologize once again for the part I played in this campaign ad that is set to ruin your life."

That hadn't been what Santana had been expecting and she can only stare at her in shock as her mind tries to make sure it processed the words correctly. A glance at Brittany only reveals the blonde looks as confused as she is.

"Now I've spoken to my people, and unfortunately I couldn't convince them to have Reggie the Sauce Salazar deported back to whichever two bit country he came from. Apparently he claims to be a US national, though how that's possible with a name like Salazar I don't know, but sadly there's nothing I can do on that front." Coach Sylvester clasps her hands together and sighs. "The only consolation I can offer is that I've managed to get Salazar to delay airing the ad until next week, though it's better if you don't know the details of just how I did that. I know it isn't much, but it will at least give you a little time to work out how to tell your parents that you're a sneaky gay. Or not so sneaky as it turns out."

Santana wonders if she's dreaming, in which case this whole thing is sure to turn into one of her nightmares any second now. Her eyes dart quickly over to the door where she half expects Finn to burst through carrying an axe.

When Coach Sylvester receives no response from her, she turns to Brittany instead. "Ellen, has Portia here suffered some kind of head trauma on top of everything else that's happened this week?"

Brittany shakes her head.

Coach Sylvester rolls her eyes. "Well I suggest you both pull yourselves together before Cheerios practice or you'll be both be finding yourselves at the bottom of the pyramid for the rest of the year. Understand?"

They both nod at her.

"Good. Now I'm certain you're supposed to be sitting in a circle somewhere singing Kum Ba Yah with Schuester right about now, so get out of here before William sends out a search party."

They scramble to their feet and head for the door.

"And Santana?"

Santana pauses with her hand on the door handle. It always throws her when Coach Sylvester refers to her by her actual name.

"I might not have been able to do anything about Salazar, but you don't have to worry about that niece of his."

Santana raises an eyebrow, not sure if she wants to know any more on that subject or not.

Coach Sylvester smiles at her. "Let's just say she's no longer a student at McKinley and leave it at that."

Brittany places a hand on her arm and that's enough to make Santana move, opening the door and letting Brittany past her. Santana pauses in the doorway, wanting to say thank you, but she can't find the words, something that's been happening a lot lately.

Coach Sylvester is busy writing in her journal, her eyes fixed on the desk, but she must know Santana hasn't yet left. "You're welcome, Lopez. Now go."

Santana can only nod and then follows Brittany.

Brittany offers her a small smile. "That's good, right? That you've got some time until they start showing that ad?"

"Yeah, great, a stay of execution. So now I get to wait even longer for my life to go to hell."

Brittany moves towards her to pull her into a hug, but she takes a step back, her eyes darting around the hallway. It's becoming automatic now, her need to keep some physical distance between them whenever they're in public. She knows she's hurting Brittany by doing so, but she's not quite ready for public displays of affection yet. She just hopes Brittany understands. In a way, it's why she's kind of glad of Glee Club. It's somewhere that she doesn't feel the need to push Brittany away, and even if it is only a small step, she still feels like she's made some progress at least. "Come on. Let's go see what fresh hell The Jolly Finn Giant has for us today."

She starts walking towards the choir room, Brittany falling into step beside her. Santana's almost at the door when she realises that Brittany is no longer following her and she turns around to find her standing a short way back down the corridor. "Are you coming?"

Brittany keeps her eyes on the floor. "How can you be okay with all this?"

"Because I don't have a fucking choice." She doesn't mean to raise her voice, but they've had this conversation before, and she's getting tired of it. "What do you want me to do? Go in there and beat Finn to death with a chair? Scream at them all? What good will it do, huh, Britt?"

Brittany doesn't have an answer for her, probably because she knows she's right.

"B, don't you get it? I'm just trying to get through each day without having a complete break down here."

"I just..."

"Look, it's my life they're interfering with. I'm the one that has to live with all this crap and I've got more important things to worry about than the Glee Club thinking they're helping by holding these musical interventions. So I'm asking you to let it go, okay?" There's nobody else around so Santana risks reaching out and takes hold of Brittany's hand. "Can you do that for me? Because if you're not with me on this, then I swear at least one of them is gonna end up in the hospital."

Brittany finally looks up at her, and sighs. "Okay, okay. Like I told you I'm not going anywhere."

Santana still won't let herself believe that, not with everything that's still to come, but it's enough for now that Brittany keeps hold of her hand and pulls her into the choir room.

* * *

><p>"That was sloppy. I swear the more you practice, the worse you get. How is that even possible? If I thought you had the brains, I'd swear you were doing it on purpose."<p>

Coach Sylvester's insults so far today haven't been anything that Brittany hasn't heard before. They're far from her usual quality, and even sitting up here in the bleachers, she can tell they lack their usual venom, as if she's just running lines, her heart not really in it. It almost makes Brittany glad that Coach gave her and Santana a pass on practice today. Almost.

Not that Santana had taken it well when Coach had told them they were so use to her in their current state and to get out of her sight and go home. No, it had only led to her having to sit on the floor of the locker room, while Santana paced back and forth, subjecting her to a twenty minute rant, only half of which Brittany had understood, and that wasn't just because most of it had been in Spanish. Eventually though Santana had tired herself out, something that's been happening a lot over the past few days, and that scares Brittany more than she'll admit. Everything is starting to wear Santana down, she can see it happening, but can't seem to do anything to stop it. If anything she's making it worse. She must be as once Santana had calmed down, she'd told Brittany she needed some space and then gone home without her.

And as if it wasn't bad enough that Santana is mad at her, her feet seem to be as well. They must be as they're itching to move. Maybe they're simply bored. After all she can't remember the last time she let them dance. Well she can but it hurts to think about that night, she still can't listen to Adele. And now they've been denied taking part in Cheerios practice as well then oh yeah, they're definitely pissed off. Maybe that's why they'd brought her here, to make her sit and watch the rest of the squad suck without her and Santana to help them through practice. Maybe it's their revenge against her for forcing them to keep so still lately. She sits forward, elbows resting on her knees, head in her hands, and watches as Coach makes the squad run suicides. What she wouldn't give to be down there on that field right now.

She doesn't spot Mike making his way up the bleachers towards her until it's too late to make a break for it, especially as she wouldn't be able to come up with any excuse right now for why she might be trying to run away from him. Her brain is currently running on around three hours sleep a night, the only thing keeping her awake are the Pixy Stix she keeps feeding it. She only wishes her feet were as sleepy as her head is.

Mike sits down on the bleacher beside her. "Skipping practice today?"

"Coach told us to take a few days off. That she wasn't going to let us drag her entire squad down with us, and that we could come back once we were done being zombies."

"So you get given a free pass to miss Cheerios practice, yet you're sat in the bleachers watching everyone else practice?"

"My feet made me do it."

He just nods and she figures that if anyone would understand what she's talking about it would be Mike. "Where's Santana?"

She shrugs. She's sick of everyone assuming that the two of them are suddenly inseparable, treating them as a single entity, though most of the time it feels like she's now simply an extension of Santana, that she is no longer her own person, instead is simply Santana's girlfriend, and therefore of no consequence to them.

Mike doesn't say anything else, just turns his attention to the Cheerios. They sit in silence for a while until Mike eventually turns to look at her. "Britt?" He hasn't called her that in a long time. In fact, she doesn't think they've even really spoken to each other since last years Sectionals when they were doing rehearsals for Valerie. She keeps her eyes on the field. "When's the last time you slept? Like really slept?"

She does glance over at him now, finally meeting his eyes to find they're full of nothing but concern. "She's having nightmares." She realises too late that she maybe shouldn't have told him that, that she's violated Santana's trust in some way by doing so, but she needs to talk to someone about all this. She has too many thoughts bouncing around her head and it's starting to hurt. "She was doing okay. Not brilliant, but she was doing okay. But then you guys had to start..." She sighs, runs a hand over her face. "You all think you're helping, but you're not. You're making it worse, and none of you even realise it."

Mike doesn't say anything, though he does look a little surprised, as if he hadn't even considered Finn's idea was anything less than brilliant.

"I don't think you get how long she's been struggling with this. How long it's been tearing her apart." Now that she's started, she can't seem to stop the words from pouring out of her mouth. "But she was figuring it out, you know? Slowly, but she was getting there. And I told her it was okay. I told her she had time, Mike." She rubs at her eyes, willing herself not to cry. She's promised herself that she would be the strong one this time, that she owes Santana that at least. "But he took that away from her. And he had no right. He had no fucking right." She clenches her fists, nails digging into her palms. "He did that to her and now you all seem to think all you have to do is sing her a few songs and everything will be magically okay? It doesn't work like that." She wishes it did. "And the songs don't even make any sense. I thought Kurt would have got it at least. He's like the most unicorn person I know. But he doesn't. Telling her she's perfect? She isn't perfect, Mike. Nobody's perfect. And I've been trying so hard for so long to get her to understand that she doesn't have to be perfect. She just has to be Santana. And they ruined all that with one crappy pop song."

Mike shifts a little in his seat, but doesn't say anything.

She thinks back to today's lesson. "And Puck sounded awesome, but I don't get what that song had to do with Santana liking girls."

Something tells her the worst is yet to come as Finn hasn't sung so far, and seeing as this whole thing was his idea, there's no way he won't be doing so at some point. "I just don't get any of it." She wishes she did, wishes she did understand how Finn's masterplan is supposed to help Santana. Maybe then it would make it easier to sit through all these Lady Music lessons. But Santana has asked her to be there, and so she's going to keep showing up in that choir room for as long as Santana wants.

"I let her down last year. I tried pushing her, but I just ended up hurting her, Mike, hurting her until she started pushing back." Thinking about last year only starts her mind playing out what if scenarios. What if she hadn't tried to make Santana jealous by dating Artie? What if she hadn't ripped Santana's heart out of her chest after making her confess everything in that hallway? What if she'd been more patient? But it's only really these past few days that she's really understood just what Santana was so afraid of, and now it's too late to do anything about it. "I won't ever let her down like that again." She turns her attention back to the field just in time to watch the Cheerios mess up another routine.

When Mike does next speak, his voice is soft and low. "How long have you been in love with her?"

She doesn't have to think about her answer. "I don't remember ever not being in love with her." She can't help smiling slightly and she's suddenly left wondering just what she's doing sitting here with Mike Chang, when she could be spending her time making sure Santana knows just how much she loves her.

Before she can put that right though her cellphone buzzes to tell her she's received a new text message.

**Britt, I'm sorry. Where are you? I need you. Please.**

She types back a quick reply to tell Santana she'll be there as soon as she can. "I've gotta go, Chang. My girl needs me."

He nods, but she can see the worry in his eyes. "Okay, Pierce, I'll see you tomorrow."

He will because as much as she hates this whole Lady Music thing, she isn't about to let Santana go through it alone.

* * *

><p>"You still haven't convinced me this isn't a set up." Puck slumps back in the passenger seat of Mike's truck.<p>

Mike sighs, not for the first time tonight. They're parked in front of Santana's house, where they've been sat for the last ten minutes while they work out the finer details of his plan.

Puck scowls at him. "Dude, come on. What am I supposed to think? You show up on my doorstep, telling me you want me to babysit Santana Lopez for the evening? It sounds like a set up. Anyone can see that she's only going to end up killing me."

Puck might have a point, but he thinks he has a better chance of surviving this suicide mission than anyone else. "Just think of it as a challenge. Your chance to step up."

"Hey, I can be as good a lesbro as the next dude, but I'm just not sure she's ready for me taking her to bars to pick up chicks."

"That's not what I suggested you do with her." He frowns. "And that's exactly the kind of thing that _will _get you killed."

"Chang, if you don't want me to teach her everything I know about women, then why exactly am I here? Why not get your girl to help you out with this crazy ass plan?"

Mike had considered asking Tina, but she's not exactly friends with Santana. Not many people are. Quinn had been his first choice, but he gets the feeling that throwing Quinn into the mix right now would just be adding gasoline, and they can all do without that. So Puck had been his only other option. "Out of everyone in Glee, you're probably the person who knows her best."

"Dude, the fact that I dated her for so long and never realised that she was all about the ladies, would kinda suggest otherwise."

Mike's starting to realise that none of them know the real Santana, none of them except Brittany anyway. It doesn't matter though. Anyone who tries to talk to Santana right now is only going to be leaving that house in an ambulance, which is fine as he only needs a diversion, someone to keep Santana occupied while he talks to Brittany. Not that he plans on telling Puck he's only using him as cannon fodder. "Brittany needs a break. She's going to crash and burn if she doesn't get some rest soon."

"Can't we just wait for exhaustion to kick in? She's gotta loose consciousness eventually." He must sense that Mike isn't happy about that suggestion, as he throws open the door. "Fine, let's get this over with." He's out the car and halfway up her path by the time Mike catches up to him.

It's only as they near the house that Mike notices a slight flaw in his plan. "Won't her parents freak out at us being here this late?"

"Relax, Chang. They won't be home. We're fine. It's just Santana we have to worry about." Instead of going to the front door, Puck makes his way towards the back yard.

Mike falters for a second. "Where are you going?" Puck doesn't give him an answer. Mike no longer feels in control of this situation. He hurries after Puck, rounding the corner just in time to see him turning the handle on the kitchen door. When it swings open, he simply nods towards it and then disappears inside.

This is suddenly feeling like a really bad idea and he considers bolting it, leaving Puck to his own fate but this was all his idea, and he feels he has no choice but to follow Puck.

Entering the house, he finds himself in Santana's kitchen. Thankfully the lights are on but there's no sign of Puck. He's only been to Santana's house maybe twice, both parties and he doesn't remember much of either of them if he's honest. He closes the door behind him and slowly makes his way through into the hallway. There's a sudden crash from upstairs.

"What the fuck?"

That was Santana's voice and yeah, she definitely sounds pissed. He takes the stairs two at a time but comes to a halt when he reaches the hallway to find Puck cowering outside what he assumes is Santana's bedroom. Something whizzes past Puck's head and bounces off the wall. "Whoa, Lopez, you nearly hit me with that one."

"That was kinda the point, Puckerman."

Puck scowls at him as he approaches. "See, I told you she'd only try to kill me."

Mike reaches the door just as Santana charges out into the hallway and he has to step back quickly to avoid colliding with her. She had been heading for Puck, but she stops dead when she notices him. "What has the whole Glee club just invaded my house to serenade me again or something? I swear to God if Berry's downstairs..."

Brittany appears in the doorway, looking even more exhausted than she had earlier and all his doubts about this fade away.

"Relax, Lopez. It's just me and Chang." Puck holds his hands up. "Will you chill already?"

She folds her arms, and sighs. "What are you doing here?"

Puck looks to him for help, but Mike finds he can only shrug.

"Well?" She shoots them that patented Lopez glare and Mike now really finds himself not able to speak. He looks to Brittany for help and is thankful when she offers him a tight smile. She steps past Santana, surprising everyone by throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug. "Thanks, Mike, but we're fine. Really."

Over her shoulder he can see Santana's frown deepen and he knows he might be risking life and limb, but he returns the embrace anyway. "You sure, Brittany?"

"Positive." She pulls away from him, nodding slightly.

"Then okay. Let's go, Puck." He's not sure who's more confused right now. Puck or Santana. He starts to go back downstairs but he only makes it two steps before Santana stops him. "Hold on. Give us a minute, will ya?" Then she's taken Brittany's hand and led her back into the bedroom. He stays where he is, but Puck moves closer to the door. Santana has pushed it closed, but it's still open a crack, and Puck is clearly planning on listening in. Mike soon finds himself joining him, straining to hear what's being said inside.

"B, earlier, when you said you went for a walk? Did you go see Mike?"

"No."

"Brittany."

"He came to see me."

"And?"

"And nothing."

"You talked to him though?"

"Well, yeah, it would have been rude to just ignore him."

"I mean you talked to him talked to him."

"No, not really. He's just..." He hears the hesitation in Brittany's voice, knows she's carefully choosing her words. "He's just worried about us."

There's silence for a moment, then he hears Santana say, "Okay, okay."

He hears footsteps heading back towards them and both he and Puck spring as far away as they can.. The door opens and Santana walks out into the hallway. "Hey, boy Chang? You're gonna do me a favor."

It's not a question, so he simply nods.

"Look after my girl for a couple of hours, yeah? I got something I need to do."

He notices she's put on a jacket and she pushes past him, moving towards the stairs. "Come on, Puckerman. We're going to have the conversation about you turning up in my bedroom uninvited. Again."

Puck's shoulders slump. "You owe me, Chang. You owe me big for this." He deliberately bumps into Mike as he passes him, then follows Santana.

After a moment, Mike realises that he can't just stand here all night, so he takes a deep breath and enters Santana's room to find Brittany sitting on the edge of the bed.

He shoves his hands into his pockets. "What just happened?"

Brittany doesn't look like she has any more idea than he does. He sits down beside her, unsure of what his next move should be. He'd been so focused on getting them in here, getting to Brittany that he hasn't even thought about what comes after, about just how exactly he thinks he can help her. Eventually he just says, "You need to sleep."

"Can't."

"You can't be there for her if you don't take care of yourself."

She doesn't say anything, just stares at her hands, clasped together in her lap. He has a different idea all of a sudden and jumps to his feet, jogging over to where Santana's Ipod is sat in its dock.

She turns to watch him. "What are you doing?"

He ignores her, just grabs the Ipod and begins flicking through the playlists. Judging by the titles, some of them have to have been created by Brittany, the rest give him a scary insight into Santana's current state of mind.. One playlist catches his eye though and he turns to Brittany, eyebrow raised. "Shawty and Boo?"

She turns bright red and is on her feet, trying to take the Ipod from him. "Put it down. Santana will kill you."

He easily holds it out of her reach and shakes his head. They tussle for a moment, but then disappointingly, Brittany gives up and walks back over to the bed, dropping onto her back. "Fine, but just don't blame me when Snix snaps your neck."

He glances from her to the Ipod and decides he'll take his chances. He clicks into the playlist and smiles slightly. Yeah, this will definitely suit his needs. He places it into the dock and starts the first song. He starts to move and Brittany sits up on her elbows to watch him. He works his way over to her and holds out a hand. "Well if you don't want to sleep, then dance with me, Pierce."

He can see the conflict behind her eyes as she hesitates, but she's a dancer, just like him, and she can't resist the beat for long.

* * *

><p>Puck's still trying to figure out how exactly he's ended up in trouble here. This whole thing had been Mike's idea, yet he's the one who's receiving death glares from Santana and is currently having to follow after her like a freaking lap dog. Once downstairs, he follows her through the kitchen and out the back door. She doesn't go far though, just walks over to the swimming pool where she kicks her shoes off, and sits down on the edge, dangling her feet in the water. She hasn't at any point looked back to see if he's following her, and he guesses she doesn't much care if he does or not. She pulls a packet of cigarettes out of her pocket and lights one. He glances back at the house, trying to decide whether he's safer just leaving, but Mike's his ride and he doesn't much fancy having to walk home. He waits another moment, then goes and sits down cross legged beside her. "You gonna share those smokes?"<p>

"With you?" Her eyes narrow. "No."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No."

Well this is turning into a really fun evening. So far she's nearly given him a concussion by launching a hairbrush at his head, she won't even offer him a cigarette and now apparently he gets to sit in awkward silence for god knows how long while Chang gets to play knight in shining armor to a hot blonde dancer.

"He thinks I'm not good enough for her, doesn't he?" She takes another drag on her cigarette, then suddenly is violently stubbing it out on the ground. It takes him a moment to figure out she's talking about Mike. "That's what you all think."

She's staring at him, and something in her eyes tells him that his answer here might just make or break her. Problem is he's not sure what exactly she's looking for. He has no idea what Mike thinks, and it's not exactly something he's ever given much thought to. As far as he's concerned they've always just been Brittany and Santana, and he can't imagine them ever not being together.

She must take his silence as confirmation though as she looks away, rubbing furiously at her eyes. A crying Santana Lopez is not something he knows how to handle and he wonders if maybe he should go get Brittany.

"And you're right. I just end up hurting her, all the fucking time. Like now. What does it say when Mike Chang can see that, but I can't? She deserves better. She deserves someone who can give her fucking everything, not someone that can't even..."

"Oh get over yourself, Lopez." He knows he's taking a risk by cutting her off, but no way is he going to sit here and listen to this crap. He'd rather go back to the awkward silence.

"Excuse me?" She turns slowly and gives him that death glare once again.

It's stopped her from crying though so maybe it's worth it. "You heard me." He's really not in the mood to join her pity party. "This isn't just about you. It's about her too, and that girl in there is fucking crazy about you. So what does it matter if people think you're not good enough for her? It should only matter what she thinks, and for whatever reason, she wants to be with you. So man up and stop giving a fuck what anyone else thinks and just be thankful that you've got a girl that worships you as much as she does."

She won't look at him now, instead staring down into the water. He can just about see her brow crease, as if she's thinking over what he's just said.

He gives her a minute, but when she still hasn't moved, he tells her, "I'm not going to apologize You know that, right?"

She turns her head, and frowns. "For what?"

"For singing that song. Chang said you were pissed about it, but I'm not gonna apologize"

"Oh please, we both know you weren't singing that song to me, but I don't give a shit about whatever new found drama you've got yourself caught up in this time. Although if it involves you seducing Berry again, then you have my full support."

That puts some very nice mother daughter fantasies into his head and he takes a moment to appreciate those thoughts, before shaking them off.

She lights up another cigarette and takes a long drag, but then glances down at it and scowls as if it's offended her somehow. She flicks it still lit into the pool. "God, these things taste like shit."

He nods back towards the house. "Wanna raid your dad's office? For old times sake?"

"What the hell. Besides it might be the last chance I get to do it."

He springs to his feet and holds out a hand to her, pulling her up when she takes it. She stumbles slightly and he has to place his hands on her waist to hold her steady. Standing with his arms around her, it suddenly hits him that things have changed between them now, that never again will she come crawling back into his bed, never again will they fall back into that pattern of mindlessly screwing each others brains out just because they could. And maybe that bothers him a little bit, and not just because the sex had always been amazing. He feels like he should be apologising for something, but he doesn't even know what. He opens his mouth to do so anyway, but she shakes her head slightly, her way of telling him not to, and then she's pushing past him towards the house.

They don't say anything until they're in her dad's study, and Santana glances back over her shoulder at him. "Do you wanna do the honors?"

"I think you should." It only feels right that she be the one to do the deed.

Santana searches the desk until she finds two paperclips, then she kneels down in front of the drawer and sets to work.

Puck sits down in the chair, leaning back and throwing his feet up on top of the desk. "You always did look good on your knees, Lopez."

He expects her to tell him where to go, what he doesn't expect is her to simply shrug and say, "I think Britt would definitely agree with you there."

He's sure his brain actually short circuits there for a moment at that thought and by the time it starts working again, she's managed to pick the lock and has the drawer open. He can't help feeling a surge of pride. "I taught you well, my padawan."

Her only response is to raise her middle finger in his direction. She lifts four Cubans from the box that she finds in there, placing them on top of the desk.. Then she grabs the bottle of scotch that's hidden at the back, opens it and takes a long drink straight out of the bottle. She follows that with a second hit, then passes it to him. She pushes the drawer shut, taking the time to re-lock it. The perfect crime, just like old times.

He pours some scotch down his throat. "I always did like your dad's study."

She stands up, snatches the bottle out of his hands and knocks back another mouthful. "What's not to like? Alcohol, expensive cigars, a desk that's just the right height for being bent over and fucked into next week."

He'd been nodding along in agreement when he suddenly pauses. He doesn't remember that last one. He remembers her riding him in this very chair one night, but the desk? He's certain that even if he had been completely wasted at the time, he would never forget something like that. "But I never...shit." He sits up, pulling his feet back to the floor and leaning forward to run a hand over the surface of the desk, almost reverently. "No way? Dude, for real?" He thinks this desk should be made a national treasure or something.

Santana has a hand over her eyes and groans, and he figures she's just realised that telling him that might not have been the best idea she's ever had.

He laughs, and leans back, pushing back with his feet so that the front legs of the chair lift off the floor. "Just so I can get the picture right in my head, are we talking strap-on or just some good old finger..."

He doesn't get any further with that sentence as Santana kicks out, her foot colliding with his shin. He tries to jerk back out of the way, but only succeeds in tipping the chair over, him crashing to the floor with it. He curses, rubbing at his shoulder. "What the hell, Lopez?"

She shrugs. "Like you didn't deserve it. You're just lucky this scotch is too expensive to waste throwing it in your face."

He sits up. "But if I'm gonna be your lesbro, this is exactly the kind of details I should get to hear. Otherwise what do I get out of it?"

"If you're gonna be my what now?" She pushes off the desk and takes a step closer to him, one hand on her hip.

"Your lesbro." When she just frowns at him, he falters slightly, but not enough to stop talking. "Sorry, I forgot you're still kinda new to this whole being a lesbian thing, but that's okay, cause I've been googling all this shit, so that I can help make sure you know everything you need to." He bounces on the balls on his feet, excited that his research is paying off. "Did you know there's like different kinds of lesbians? Lipstick lesbians, diesel dykes, femmes, though they might be the same thing as lipstick lesbians, I'm not sure." Okay so he might have found a lot of the information confusing, but then his mind did tend to keep wandering while he was clicking on the various links. "And we have to go to pride, cause apparently that's a really big deal, and it's supposed to be all kinds of awesome, and I'm not sure where the nearest one is, but I can find out, and we can go next summer. We can ask Kurt and Blaine to come and it can be like a road trip."

She slowly backs away from him until she's in the corner of the room, her eyes wide. "I can't...I'm not..."

"What?" He'd thought she'd be pleased that he was taking an interest, that he was being supportive, but there's only fear in her eyes. "Shit, are you having a panic attack or something?" If she isn't, then he's sure she must be close to one. She sinks down to the floor, her back pressed against the wall, and she draws her knees up to her chest. She's still clutching the scotch bottle, and he keeps that in mind as he approaches her, just in case she decides to launch that at his head. "Seriously, what's with you?" He crouches down in front of her, but she won't even look at him.

She mumbles something but he can't make it out. He decides to try and take the bottle from her, for his safety more than hers, but when he reaches for it, she jerks it away from him. "Why does nobody understand that I don't want this? You're all acting like I'm a bitch for not wanting to walk around waving the rainbow flag or whatever. But do none of you fucking get it? I don't want any of this."

Angry Santana, now that he can handle, he's had plenty of experience. Something tells him she needs to lash out at someone and soon, and if that means him taking one for the team, well he's prepared to do just that. He decides though that he might as well speed this whole process up and he goes straight for her berserk button. "Except for Brittany."

Her head snaps up and she glares at him. "What?"

"Except for Brittany. You want her, right?" He stands, putting a little distance between them. He doesn't have a death wish after all. "I mean, you tried not to, tried real hard, but you couldn't stop wanting her. How many times did you fuck me, hoping that I'd magically make you straight, but instead you spent the whole time time wishing it was her inside you instead? Her hands on you. Her mouth on you."

Well his plan works, maybe a little too well as she's on her feet in seconds and in his face. She pushes him. Hard. "Shut up. You don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about."

"Yes, I do."

She goes to push him again but this time he grabs her arms and spins her around, pulling her against him, her back pressed into his chest. "Lemme go, Puck."

She struggles but he just tightens his grip. "No, because you're giving me that look."

"What look?"

"The same look you gave me Freshman year, just before you broke my nose."

"You deserved it."

"Why?" He knows why, he just needs her to admit it, not to him, but to herself.

"Because you slept with her. You slept with her and it hurt so fucking much because I..." She stops fighting him now, and starts to sob.

He wraps his arms around her, just holding her. "Because you were in love with her?" He doesn't need her to answer, they both know it's the truth. "You've been in love with her this whole time. And that is why you're going to get your shit together, and start dealing with your fucking issues. Not because of anything Finn or the rest of us say or do. You're gonna do it because of that girl upstairs. Because you're in love with her and she's in love with you, and you know she's worth all the crap you'll have to put up with to be with her."

When she starts wiping at her eyes, and is no longer shaking, he lets her go. She keeps her gaze on the floor but he doesn't push her any more. He walks over to the desk and picks up the cigars. "So are we going to smoke these bad boys or what?"

She just nods and they head back outside and sit down on the back porch. She shuffles closer to him and rests her head on his shoulder. He slides an arm around her shoulder and they sit there, smoking cigars and drinking scotch, and okay so maybe it doesn't feel like old times, but it makes him think she just might let him be her lesbro afterall and he's more than okay with that.

* * *

><p>Santana isn't sure how long she's been sitting on her back porch with Noah Puckerman like it's Sophomore year all over again. The cigars were finished a while ago, and the scotch had been abandoned as soon as everything had started to spin. Puck's lying on his back, snoring, though she isn't sure at what point he fell asleep. She however feels wide awake for the first time in days, though she knows she shouldn't. She should want nothing other than to sleep, but instead she's feeling wired. The temperature has dropped and she shivers against the cold. She slips her jacket off and drapes it over Puck's chest. She probably should wake him, but she knows how difficult a task that is, and he's never grateful for his sleep being interrupted, so she leaves him there and heads back inside.<p>

She's at the bottom of the stairs before she manages to stop herself and carries on into the living room instead. Brittany needs a break from her, she's pretty sure that had been the whole point of Mike Chang's visit so fine, she'll give her girl some space. She grabs the TV remote and sinks down onto the sofa. She flicks through the channels but there's nothing decent on, so she settles for watching infomercials.

She hasn't been there long when she hears footsteps on the stairs and then Mike Chang is poking his head in the room. He looks nervous, as if he's worried that she's going to be mad at him. She draws her knees up to her chest to make room for him on the sofa and gestures for him to join her.

He does, but he's still wary. "She's asleep."

She nods, not sure what exactly he's expecting from her. "So's your boy." She points towards the back door. "Though that might have something to do with the scotch he's been knocking back."

Mike doesn't say anything and it suddenly hits her that she's never been alone in a room with him before now. Maybe she's avoided spending time with because of how close he and Brittany are. Or were. Or maybe it's because she's always felt like he's judging her whenever he looks at her, disapproval in his eyes. She inhales sharply and it's enough to get him to turn to her. "Listen up, Jackie Chan, I'm taking a chance on you here, but if you think you can screw me over..."

He frowns. "Taking a chance?"

"Yeah. I left you alone in my bedroom with my girlfriend, who just so happens to be your ex-girlfriend."

"You don't trust Brittany?"

"Oh I trust her just fine. You on the other hand? Not so much."

He looks offended, as if she's insulted his honor by even suggesting such a thing. "Are you always so cynical? So sure that everyone is out to get you?"

"Yeah, because I'm usually right."

"She's a friend. I was just worried about her. About both of you."

"Worried about me?" She laughs. "Don't be. I'm just peachy."

He turns so that he's watching the television and not her. "It's three in the morning, Santana. So where are your parents?"

"I don't know." She does know. They're at a medical conference in Chicago if the note that had been left on the fridge is anything to go by. Not that she'd even known they were going out of town, not until she'd come home from school to find them gone and the usual three hundred dollars sitting on the kitchen counter, just in case she needed any money before they got back. Apparently they've been gone all week so she's been hiding out at Brittany's for no reason, but whatever.

Mike sighs, but doesn't push the issue. "It's just that Brittany's so busy worrying about you, that I just thought someone needed to worry about her."

"It isn't your job to worry about her."

"No, it's yours." He keeps his voice calm, but she can hear the faintest trace of anger. "But you're no use to her right now because you're drowning."

His words cut into her, just enough to stop her from snapping out any response to what he's saying.

"And she's working so hard to keep you afloat that she's exhausted."

She knows he's right, she'd seen it earlier when Mike and Puck has first shown up. She just doesn't know how she hadn't seen it before.

"But it's okay, because this is what friends are for, to help when you're too tired to do it alone."

"We've never been friends, Mike." She's not sure why she feels the need to point that out.

"No, but I'm Brittany's friend, and you're her girlfriend. So I'm hoping that you'll stop hating me at least."

She's never hated him, not really. She's always been jealous of him, but never hated him. Not that she plans on admitting any of that. "I suppose I can try. But long as you know I'm doing this for Brittany, not for you."

He offers her a small smile. "And that's exactly how it should be."

Mike stays for a while, the two of them watching TV in silence until Puck stumbles inside, moaning about them leaving him to freeze to death in the back yard. Once they leave, Santana locks up and makes her way upstairs. She had considered sleeping on the sofa, or not sleeping seeing as there really isn't much point going to bed at this point, but she can't stand the thought of waking up not in Brittany's arms, not when she doesn't have to.

She enters her room to find the bed empty, but there's the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. She finds Brittany lent over the sink, both palms flat against the counter, staring down into the basin watching the water flow out of the tap. She looks up, she doesn't turn around but locks gazes with Santana through the mirror, and asks, "You okay?"

There's no answer Santana could even begin to give to that question right now, so she simply shrugs. Brittany frowns, has that look she gets when she wants to say something but isn't sure whether she's allowed to or not. Santana hates that look. Especially when she's the cause of it.

She wraps her arms tighter around herself. "I'm sorry."

Brittany does turn around now, perching on the edge of the counter. "For what?"

Another question that she's not sure she can answer. For being so weak. For being so scared. For everything. It's very rare that Santana has to explain herself when it comes to Brittany. Normally no matter what she says, Brittany just gets her. How she wishes this was one of those times. She wants to just shrug again, play it of as no big deal, but that haunted expression is still there in Brittany's eyes and the need to make that go away overrides her fear for once. "I just realised how shit I am at this. This whole being in a relationship thing. I don't have a fucking clue how to be someone's girlfriend."

Brittany's expression softens and she takes a step towards her. "San..."

She holds a hand up to stop her, needing a moment to figure out the right words, needing to say this before she chickens out. "No, it's true. I've been too busy feeling sorry for myself and falling into a near catatonic state, that I haven't once asked if you're okay. Haven't even bothered to see how my girlfriend is coping with all this shit. I mean, who even does that?"

Now it's Brittany's turn to shrug. "This isn't about me."

"But it should be. That's the point. All this effects you as much as it does me. And the stupid Glee club have taken to serenading me at every opportunity yet not one of them, except for Mike, has done anything for you, has even checked to see how you're handling all this. And I've had my head so far up my ass that it's taken me this long to notice and to realise that _I _haven't even asked if you're okay. So yeah, I must be the worst girlfriend ever, and you deserve so much more, someone who's better at this whole romance thing, someone who's braver, who's stronger, and..."

"Stop!"

She'd been too busy trying to wipe the tears out of her eyes, that she's not even sure when Brittany moved to stand in front of her, but she's there now, pulling Santana's hands away from her face and quickly entwining their fingers.

"Just stop, please."

She stops talking, but can't bring herself to look at Brittany, keeps her eyes fixed on the floor. Brittany apparently doesn't plan on giving her a choice in that matter though, as she suddenly feels warm fingers lifting her chin until she's staring into blue eyes. Blue eyes that are now crying as much as hers.

"Haven't you figured it out by now? I don't want anyone else. I've waited for you, waited for this for so long, and now that we're here, you don't get to bail on me. I'm not going to let you do that to me, to us, to yourself. So you have to stop, okay?"

Brittany leans forward to rest her forehead against Santana's and takes a deep breath. "I love you. You can try to push me away as much as you want, but you know what? I'm stronger than you, so this is a battle you won't win. I'm not going anywhere. Sooner you accept that and stop fighting me, then the sooner, we can start fighting everyone else."

"My parents get home tomorrow."

Brittany tenses but doesn't say anything.

"They get home tomorrow, Britt, and I'm going to tell them." She has to, she can't keep putting this off any longer. Now that she knows everything is starting to take its toll on Brittany, well she needs to do something to ease the pressure, for both their sakes.

Brittany looks worried but she nods. "Okay."

"But enough about me. What do you need?"

"I need to know you're okay." Brittany slides her hands into Santana's back pockets and pulls her closer to her until their hips are pressed together.

"I am. How can I not be when I've got you?" Santana kisses her, wrapping her arms around her neck so she can pull her in to deepen the kiss. When Brittany whimpers and rolls her hips into hers, she's reminded that it's been far too long since the last time they were together, but she pushes those thoughts away for now and pulls away. "Seriously though, Brittany, can we talk about you for a minute?"

Brittany drops her gaze to the floor. "We don't need to."

"No, but I want to, so talk to me, B." She slides her arms down until they're resting at the small of Brittany's back. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Mostly I'm just worried about you. I'm lucky, my parents have always said that us kids could be whoever or whatever we wanted. They were always going to be cool with me being in love with you."

Santana can't help the slight pang of jealousy that settles in her chest, but at the same time she's glad that Brittany has that, that she doesn't have to ever be scared of losing her family over this.

Brittany presses a kiss to her forehead. "But it scares me that you don't have that, and what that will mean for us if your parents aren't okay with this."

Santana's given this a lot of thought recently, she's had to, she just wishes she'd talked it through with Brittany before now. "It doesn't matter. What they think isn't going to change how I feel about you and I'm not going to let them come between us. I mean I hope it doesn't come down to that, but if I have to choose, I'd choose you every time."

"But..."

Santana shakes her head. "We'll figure the rest out if it happens, okay?"

That seems to be enough for Brittany for now. "Okay."

Something else suddenly occurs to her. "Hey, Britt, what does all this mean for your campaign? If people don't vote for you because of this, then I..." She trails off, not really knowing what she'd do.

Brittany tilts her head, her brow creasing as if she's trying to recall some information that's buried deep in her brain. "According to Jewfro's polling, eighty-five percent of the school already thought we were a couple before all this anyway so between you and me, I think my victory is pretty much a dead cert."

"Eighty-five percent? Really?" She winces. So much for her thinking they'd hidden it well until Finn opened his big mouth.

"So Jewfro says."

Oddly enough, whilst he may be a creepy little pervert, Santana has to admit that Jewfro does seem to know what he's talking about when it comes to polling figures. "So does that mean I have to start calling you Madame President now?"

"I think so."

"Even in the bedroom?"

"Especially in the bedroom." Brittany leans in to claim her lips again and the next thing Santana knows is she's being carried to the bed. So much for them getting any sleep tonight.


	9. I Kissed A Girl  Part 3

Brittany jolts awake with a start. She knows immediately what's woken her, it's the fact that she no longer appears to wrapped around Santana, and of course that starts that little ball of panic to form in her chest, the one that makes an appearance whenever she's reminded that Santana could still make a bolt for it any time she wants, could just get in her car and leave Lima, and Brittany, far behind her. And nothing sets it off as much as waking up to find Santana has left their bed. It's too ingrained in her from all those nights when Santana would sneak out and leave her in the middle of the night. Even though it's months since Santana promised to never do that to her again, a promise that she's kept, it's still hard to shake that feeling completely. Especially with everything that's happened.

She sits up, quickly scanning the room. That ball shrinks the moment her eyes fall on Santana sat at her desk, the soft glow of her laptop lighting up her features just enough so that Brittany can tell whatever it is she's doing, it has her full attention, headphones in her ears, eyes fixed on the screen in front of her. A quick glance at her alarm clock tells Brittany it's six am so she's lucky if she's had an hour's sleep, and for some reason she doubts Santana's even had that.

Brittany slides out of the bed and softly crosses the room. She's kind of awesome at sneaking up on Santana at the best of times, but with the headphones in, then Santana doesn't stand a chance. Once she's standing behind her, she leans down and wraps both arms around Santana's chest.

As expected Santana jumps in fright, and Brittany has to tighten her grip to stop her from falling out the chair. "Fuck."

"Sorry." Brittany can't help laughing, and buries her face into Santana's shoulder, hoping she won't hear. Maybe she does need to stop with her sneak attacks though. If she doesn't, one of these times she might end up causing her to have a heart attack, and well, that would suck. Like really suck.

Santana pulls out the headphones and drops them down onto the desk. She then quickly minimizes the window she had open, much to Brittany's disappointment "Always the ninja, aren't you, Britt?"

Brittany hugs her, and presses a soft kiss to her neck. "Everything's better with ninjas." Santana pulls her to sit on her lap.

She trails a hand down Santana's chest and doesn't miss the way her breath hitches as she does so. Her hand plays with the hem of the T-shirt Santana's wearing, her T-shirt. She frowns and tugs on the fabric gently. "How come we're at your house, but you still steal my clothes?"

Santana lets out a huff, but she can't hold back a smile. "Oh I'm sorry, I thought we were supposed to share everything. Do you want it back?" Santana moves to pull the offending article over her head, but Brittany places her hands on top of hers to stop her.

"Depends. You wearing anything under it?" She slips a hand underneath to check and finds only warm bare skin.

Santana captures her lips in a slow deep kiss, but something causes Brittany to pull away. Maybe it's how tense Santana feels against her. Or maybe it's that she's still worried about whatever it was that made Santana leave her arms at this time in the morning. Or maybe she just really doesn't want to do that thing again where they have sex when they really should be talking about something important.

Santana rests her forehead against Brittany's shoulder and sighs dramatically. "Tease. Walking around my room all naked and gorgeous, and then not following through. S'just mean."

Brittany pokes Santana playfully in the side, causing her to squirm a little underneath her. "You still love me though."

"I do." Santana presses a kiss to her bare shoulder that almost makes Brittany rethink the whole no sex thing. Somehow she manages to resist and pulls back slightly so she can see Santana better. Her hands slide under Santana's top and she slowly and carefully traces the outline of each of Santana's ribs.

"Britt..."

"Sorry," she mumbles and rests her forehead against Santana's. It's still the one thing they're not allowed to talk about, and she can't help worrying about it, and touch seems to be only way she has of judging when Santana is getting too thin.

"Don't be." Santana presses her lips against hers quickly, but once again Brittany pulls away, biting down on her bottom lip slightly. Santana rubs her nose against hers. "What?"

"You know how you said about us sharing things with each other?" There's a flash of panic in Santana's eyes, as if she's scared Brittany's about to push her, which okay, she is, but not on that, she'll never dare push her on that issue, she knows better than that, has always known better than that. Instead she nods towards the laptop. "I was just going to ask what has you out of bed so early?"

She feels Santana relax slightly, but she still looks nervous. For a moment Brittany thinks she isn't going to tell her, but then she reaches around her and restores the window. "I was just..."

Brittany shifts so that she's facing the screen. It looks like Santana has been on YouTube. The video on screen has the title It Gets Better. She has a second tab open and Brittany leans forward and clicks on to reveal a page of Google search results for LGBT suicides. Brittany doesn't like the look of this. "What is this?"

"I was just..." Santana's arms wrap around her waist, palms resting flat against her stomach, her fingers drawing small circles across Brittany's skin. "Just something Finn said yesterday."

Brittany hadn't even known Santana had spoken to him yesterday, and that anger starts up in her chest again, the anger that makes her want to smash his face in every time she sees him, the anger that she's getting less and less able to control. "And what did he say exactly?" She's really not sure she wants to know, but the worry will just eat at her insides if she doesn't, and she promised Mike she'd make sure she was well enough to take care of Santana and well, no insides wouldn't help with that.

Santana looks away. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does matter." Brittany reaches out, placing her hands on the side of Santana's face and lifting her head so she has no choice but to look at her. "It always matters to me what you're thinking, you know that."

Santana hesitates, but only for a few seconds. "He was just telling me how some gay kid killed himself, and how he was worried that I might do the same."

Brittany is sure her blood runs cold at the very thought, both her hands automatically grabbing for Santana, her hands fisting in her shirt and pulling her towards her. Santana has always had a thing for self-destructive behavior but that? She searches her eyes for any hint that that is an actual possibility, that this is something else she needs to worry about.

Her fear must show as Santana shakes her head. "I wouldn't. I would never do that to you, Brittany." Santana holds her gaze, and for the first time lately, her eyes are calm, no conflict or anger in them, and Brittany finds she has no choice but to believe her. Besides the alternative is too much to even think about right now.

Santana's arms squeeze her tighter. "But I've been watching all these videos, and some of the shit these kids have to deal with? I don't know how they do it." Her head drops slightly. "I don't think I could do it. I'm not strong enough, B. I..."

"Santana..." She wants to tell her that of course she is, that she's the strongest person she knows, that she can handle anything, but Santana cuts her off with a kiss, then just as suddenly pulls away.

"Let me finish. Please?"

Brittany nods.

"I'm not strong enough to do any of this on my own."

Brittany struggles to stay silent, to not argue with every word Santana says.

"And I honestly wouldn't have a fucking clue how I'd cope if things got even half as bad as this." She gestures towards the laptop. "But..." Santana takes a deep breath. "But I'm not on my own. I have you. Brittany, I would never have gotten through this week if it weren't for that and I don't think you'll ever know how grateful I am, how lucky I feel that you've stuck by me through all this. Even back before this year when I was treating you like shit, you were always there for me."

"Santana, you never..."

"Yes, I did." There's tears in Santana's eyes now. "I did, because I used to be so angry at you sometimes. I used to blame you. I convinced myself it was all your fault that I felt the way I did, your fault for making me want you, for making me fall in love with you."

That hurts, maybe because it starts her worrying that there's some truth in it. After all she's always wanted to be with Santana. So maybe she did sometimes cuddle a bit too close at sleep-overs. Maybe sometimes she did deliberately wear a top that was cut a little too low, a skirt that was a little too short, knowing that Santana would quickly give in to her desires if Brittany showed enough flesh. She learned a long time how to get exactly what she wanted from Santana, physically at least, and had taken great delight in pushing those buttons.

"Puck made me realise something last night."

"Puck?" Brittany scrunches her face up, not sure she heard Santana right.

"Yeah. He pointed out that you were worth it. And he's right, you're worth all of it. The looks, the talks, all of it. I just wish it hadn't taken me so long to figure that out. And once I tell my parents tonight, then things could get really bad, but I know that whatever happens, I've got you to get me through it. So thank you."

"Santana, you don't ever need to thank me. I want to be there for you."

"God, Britt, I love you so fucking much."

"I know." Brittany smiles.

Santana pinches at her side. "What, you're suddenly Han Solo now?"

"If that means you'll wear a gold bikini and be my Princess Leia, then yeah, I can totally be Han Solo." She leans forward, kissing Santana and pushing down with her hips until Santana's squirming underneath her. "Oh and Star Wars references? Really? You're such a dork."

"Shut up."

She isn't given much choice as Santana is immediately kissing her again.

* * *

><p>Tina's not sure when exactly Sugar started calling her a friend, but lately whenever Mercedes isn't around, then Sugar seems to latch onto her. She'd only ever hung out with her once before this started happening. After Mercedes had invited her to The Lima Bean and Sugar had been there too. She's sure Mercedes did it on purpose, only asked her in the hopes that Sugar would turn her attentions to Tina instead of her, and well it seems to have worked. And it's more than a little weird that Sugar has followed her into the bathroom after Glee practice today.<p>

She plans to simply wash her hands and then go, hoping she can ditch Sugar, but the girl has her cornered and doesn't appear about to let her leave. She has no idea why, but she thinks she's about to find out.

"You know how all your little Glee club buddies have sung Santana a song? Well do you think she'll be upset that the Trouble Tones haven't sung for her?" Sugar leans against the sinks.

"No." Tina shakes her head. Judging from what Mike has told her, she really doesn't think Santana would appreciate yet more people singing at her, and Brittany definitely wouldn't like it.

Sugar tilts her head and stares at her. "Why not?"

"I just don't think it's a good idea." She really can't say any more without telling her what Mike's told her in confidence, and okay so she might have already broken that by telling Mercedes, but she isn't about to tell Sugar.

That answer doesn't satisfy Sugar though and she steps closer to Tina. "Do you know something I don't? Because it's really not fair that you guys keep trying to exclude me from everything. You're not even on the Trouble Tones, so why should you know more than me?"

Tina moves away, but her back hits the wall and she's trapped. Thankfully she's saved by the door opening, though she's less thankful when she looks up to find it's Brittany and Santana who have entered.

Santana looks from her to Sugar, then raises an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, are we interrupting something?"

Tina shakes her head frantically, but Sugar just rolls her eyes. "Sorry, forgot this bathroom was reserved as your own personal make out spot."

"Excuse me?" Santana starts towards Sugar, but Brittany places a hand on her shoulder, and Tina's sure she hears her tell Santana to leave it. Santana folds her arms but stays where she is, glancing back at Brittany. "Oh come on, she's almost as annoying as Berry. If she keeps provoking me, you're not seriously going to expect me not to go all Lima Heights on her ass?"

Sugar doesn't seem to sense the danger here, or she just doesn't care. "You're not even from Lima Heights." Tina scurries as far away from Sugar as she can before everything kicks off. "Mercedes says your house has a swimming pool."

Santana starts rolling her sleeves up. "Alright, that's it. Do you want to throw down? Is that it? Are you some kind of masochist and you want me to beat your sorry ass? Because I can't think of a single other reason why you'd be trying to piss me off."

"I Drove All Night." Everyone turns to stare at Brittany.

"What?" Santana looks just as confused as the rest of them, but it distracts her from launching herself at Sugar.

Brittany shrugs. "I Drove All Night. That would have been a more inappropriate Cyndi Lauper song."

Santana seems to think it over, before nodding. "Okay, point taken."

Brittany grins and makes a fist pump motion. "Told ya I'd think of one."

"Yeah, yeah." Santana waves her off. "Don't you have Pixy Stix you should be handing out?"

"I'm going." Brittany kisses Santana on the cheek and then bounds over to the door. "Later, bitches. And Tina." She sticks her tongue out at Santana then leaves.

Santana turns to the mirror and starts fixing her make up.

Sugar is watching her, with a curious expression that makes Tina nervous. Now that there's no Brittany to keep Santana on her leash, well this could turn out very badly.

"So are you really gay?"

Santana had been reapplying her mascara, but now she freezes, frowning as she processes the words, then she slowly and deliberately turns to face Sugar. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Tina presses her palm to her forehead. Oh yeah, bad doesn't even begin to describe it. She would try to escape but she'd have to make it past both Sugar and Santana, and that might make them turn their attention to her, and that's too big a risk so she stays right where she is.

Santana shrugs off her jacket, draping it over the sinks. "Okay, that's it, Daddy's Girl. Lets go. In case you haven't noticed my girl isn't here to save you now, so lets get this over with."

Sugar's faster than Tina had given her credit for and she's out the door before Santana reaches her. Santana watches her go with a smirk, clearly having decided Sugar isn't worth the effort it would require to chase after her.

Tina has to admit that question has been burning at the back of her mind ever since this whole thing started, she's just never dared to ask it, but she thinks now that the damage is done and Sugar's already brought it up, surely there'll be no harm in seeing if she can get an answer. "So are you? Actually gay?"

Santana folds her arms, leaning back against the sinks. "What, you think I'm just doing all this for shits and giggles? That I'm enjoying all the attention?"

At least Santana isn't advancing on her right now, that's something at least and Tina will take anything she can get. "No, I just..."

"Just what, Lucy Liu?"

She'd expected Santana to lash out at her, but it doesn't happen. Instead Santana just looks tired, and maybe a little scared. Oh, Santana's hiding it, has buried it deep inside herself, but Tina can just about make out the fear in her eyes, and that's what makes her feel the need to explain her question. "It's just, Brittany's the only girl you've ever been with, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"But you've been with loads of guys?"

Santana hesitates, as if carefully considering her answer before she gives it. "Probably less than you think."

"I'm just saying you've dated boys, now you're dating a girl, so I was just wondering if you were gay, or if you were bisexual."

Santana shrugs. "What does it matter?"

"It doesn't matter." It doesn't, Tina's just curious. "It's just everyone is calling you a lesbian, and I just wondered if anyone had taken the time to ask, or if they'd all just assumed you were because you're dating Brittany."

Santana looks up, her forehead creasing as she studies her. "I don't see what difference it makes."

Tina's starting to think she isn't going to get any answers, that as usual Santana is far too defensive and guarded to give anything away, and she's crazy to have expected anything else. "Guess you're right. It doesn't make a difference." She turns to leave but as she grabs the door handle, Santana speaks again.

"I'm gay, I mean I'm pretty sure I'm gay at least."

Tina stops, but stays silent and keeps her back to Santana, in fear that she might spook her by turning around right now.

"I've never been attracted to guys. I tried, but..." Santana sighs. "But I've always been into Brittany."

Tina turns now and finds Santana is studying the floor once again, her arms wrapped around herself. "Is it just Brittany? Because maybe you're Brittany-sexual." It was supposed to be a joke, but she can tell that Santana is considering it as a possibility

"That would explain a lot." She glances at Tina and smiles shyly. "But no, there's been other girls that I've thought about..." She suddenly pushes off the sink and steps towards Tina, pointing a finger in her direction. "But if you ever tell Brittany that..."

She doesn't need Santana to finish that threat. "I won't." She shakes her head. "But you gonna tell me who those other girls are? Anyone I know?"

"No." Santana answers quickly, too quickly, and there's slight panic in her eyes.

She can't help wondering if maybe she's one of those girls, but that's another question that she would never dare ask. "Okay, and don't worry, I won't say a word to Brittany. I really don't want to risk her shooting the messenger."

The thing is everybody is always so busy being scared of Santana, they kind of miss that it's Brittany you really don't want to cross. Whereas Santana is quick to jump in all guns blazing when someone upsets her, Brittany, well Brittany is much more covert, and a lot more deadly. She knows better than to piss Brittany off. When Santana raises an eyebrow at her reaction, Tina just tells her, "Mike's always said that Brittany's a freakin ninja."

"She is." Santana smiles, but her face soon falls and she leans back against the stalls. "Does it bother you?"

"What?"

"That they've so close. Brittany and your boy."

Tina's almost about to say no, but something about Santana's expression makes her rethink that. "It used to. Last year when they were rehearsing for Sectionals, I was so sure that Mike was cheating on me with her. I even convinced Artie that there was something going on between them." She's not exactly proud of that fact, she's just lucky Artie never confronted Mike about it.

"Bitch, that was your fault? Do you know how many times I nearly wheeled Professor X off the stage over all that shit? For thinking that she'd cheat on him like that?"

Tina's fairly certain that if the rumors were anything to go by then Brittany was cheating on Artie, just with Santana instead of Mike, but pointing that out right now would be a mistake, a huge mistake. "My point is I used to worry about Mike spending time with her, but then I realised that he would never betray me like that, that they're just friends and that if I kept on being so jealous all the time then I'd only end up ruining what we had. And I loved him too much to do that."

Santana shoves her hands in her pockets, she doesn't say anything, just nods.

When she doesn't say anything else, Tina says, "We should double date sometime." Tina's not sure where that even comes from, but she's thrown it out there now. Her only hope is that Santana refuses to have any part of it, and judging by the way she's looking at her like she should be locked up in a padded cell for even suggesting it, well hopefully that's exactly what she's going to do.

"Even though you're probably the least annoying couple in Glee Club, it doesn't mean I want to socialize with you."

Tina chooses to take that as a compliment, and just focuses on being thankful Santana has more sense than her. "Well if you change your mind." She might be relieved it won't be happening, but she still feels the need to keep the offer there anyway.

"Not happening, Girl Chang." Santana walks past her heading for the door. "Anyway I need to go. Britts starts panicking that I've left town if I disappear on her for too long."

Tina can believe that. "Santana?"

Santana stops in the doorway and glances back over her shoulder at her.

"Mike's a good guy. You don't need to worry about him."

"We'll see."

Tina figures that's as close as Santana will ever come to agreeing with her, and it's good enough for her. She lets Santana leave, then finds herself grabbing her cellphone to call Mike, hit by the sudden urge to talk to him right now.

* * *

><p>Santana had been hoping that they wouldn't be home. Sure she'd known that their flight landed this morning, but part of her had thought that they would have had better things to do once they got back then hang around the house. Unfortunately when she pulls up out front, both of their cars are in the driveway.<p>

Brittany hasn't said a word since they left school. She still doesn't but she does reach across and place a hand on Santana's knee, squeezing gently as if to say, you can do this.

She's not sure she can though, but if she doesn't, they'll only find out when they see that damn campaign ad, and she's pretty sure that will be a lot worse than them finding out from her. Either way they'll know the truth by the end of the day.

Her hands tighten on the steering wheel and she takes a deep breath, but her chest feels tight and her lungs feel like they aren't getting enough air.

She's about to turn off the ignition but when she notices the way her hand shakes, she thinks better of it and instead pulls back out and drives off.

She notices Brittany frown but again she doesn't say anything.

Once they reach the T-junction at the end of her street, Santana slows the car to a stop, hand hovering over the indicator. Turning left would take them towards Brittany's. She could simply hide there, safe from having to deal with her parent's reactions. Brittany's dad has already said she can move in, right? So maybe she could just let them find out for themselves and simply never speak to them ever again. That could work. It's not like that would be all that different from the relationship she has with them anyway.

She looks over at Brittany, silently asking for her advice.

Brittany bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes darting from left to right, then back to rest on her. "I can't make this decision for you, Santana. You have to choose." She squeezes her knee again. "But I'm with you either way."

Santana stares straight ahead. Maybe if she keeps doing that then a third option might magically present itself. It doesn't look likely to happen though.

An SUV pulls up behind them and when it realizes they won't be moving anytime soon, it honks its horn. Santana simply turns and flips them off. They can wait.

Apparently they can't though as they honk again.

Brittany looks a little worried, probably afraid of Santana getting involved in some kind of road rage incident. It wouldn't be the first time and it's the memory of how much Brittany was left shaking, how pissed off she was with her, that makes Santana sigh and indicate right, hitting the accelerator and turning onto the next street. Thankfully their new friend goes left and Brittany seems to relax a little.

Santana takes the next right, then the next, and one more to take them back onto her street. When she reaches her house again, she doesn't even slow down, just keeps driving until they're back at that T-junction, where she once again stops in the middle of the road.

After five minutes of sitting there in silence, Santana once again turns right. Far too soon they're back on her street and once again Santana just keeps driving.

They're on maybe their fifth or sixth lap when Brittany finally speaks again. "So how many times do you think we can circle the block before we run out of gas? I think two hundred. What do you think?" There's no impatience in her voice. Santana knows she's genuinely curious, Brittany does love her experiments, and Santana doesn't doubt for a minute that Brittany would willingly sit in this car until that happens, but she has a point. Besides they'll need this car running to make their escape. Although of course her parents might not even let her keep it. They did pay for it after all. They've paid for pretty much everything she owns, and once again she's hit with the fact that she could very well be left with literally nothing after she tells them. No, not nothing, as a glance over at the passenger seat reminds her. She'll have Brittany, and really, is there anything else she needs?

She keeps driving but this time once they get to her house, she parks up. It takes her another five minutes to turn off the engine, but she's slowly getting there.

She turns to Brittany, needing to tell her something she might not like. "I don't want you to come in with me." She expects Brittany to be hurt by that, but instead she just looks confused.

Brittany opens her mouth as if to say something but quickly closes it again. She slowly nods. "Okay."

"I know it's kind of a shitty thing to say, but this is just something I need to do alone." She doesn't want Brittany in there, doesn't want her exposed to the things that are likely to be said when they find out. If this goes bad, then she can't risk Brittany getting caught in the crossfire, she needs to protect her. "But will you wait here?" She has no right to ask, she knows that, but whatever happens, she'll need Brittany afterwards.

"Santana, there's nowhere else I want to be right now."

Santana offers her a tight smile then opens her door. She leaves the keys in the ignition. "You might want to keep the engine running, just in case." She regrets saying that when she sees the concern in Brittany's eyes. "Sorry, it was a joke." She starts to climb out of the car but Brittany grabs her arm and pulls her back.

"I love you." She leans across the seat, wraps her arms around Santana and hugs her tight. "You're going to be fine. Whatever happens, you're going to be fine."

"I know." She does, but it doesn't stop her heart from trying to break out of her chest, or her body from shaking. "And I love you, B. More than anything."

Brittany pulls back slightly, just enough so she can press their lips together in one, two chaste kisses. Then she lets go of Santana, sliding back into her seat.

Santana gets out of the car and slams the door closed behind her. She makes her way up the path, stopping at the front door to look back at Brittany, who has moved over to the driver's seat. Maybe she's taking Santana seriously about them possibly needing to make a quick getaway, and that might not be a bad idea. Brittany's watching her and Santana fights the urge to run back to her and instead opens the door and enters the house.

She's greeted by silence, so nothing unusual there. The living room is empty. So's the kitchen. She finds her father in his study, sat at his desk, checking his emails. She's suddenly worried that he's noticed the missing bottle of scotch. That really should be the least of her concerns right now though. She knocks on the open door and leans against the frame.

He spins around in the chair, nods at her. "Santana."

"Hey, Papi. How was your conference?"

"It was fine, thank you. Very informative." He turns back to the computer screen, opening and deleting emails rapidly. "It's just a pain that I always have so much work to catch up on when I return home."

Santana takes that as a hint and leaves him to it. She heads upstairs, deciding maybe she should start with her mother. She can hear music playing from her parent's room where her mother is busy unpacking, humming along softly to the radio as she does so. She looks up as Santana enters. "Hello Mija. I wasn't sure if we were going to see you tonight. I thought you'd have been staying at Brittany's." She finishes folding the blouse she's holding, dropping it onto the bed.

Santana shrugs. "I am. I just wanted to drop by, let you know I'm still alive." She can't help the hint of bitterness that seeps into her voice, but her mother either doesn't notice or is just ignoring it.

"Well I'm pleased to see that there's no damage to the house this time. I swear every time we go away, we must spend half the trip worrying about what we're going to come home to."

It's nice to know that they're concerned about her trashing the house, at least it means they think about her occasionally whenever they leave her home alone. "Mami, can I talk to you about something?"

"I'm listening." Her mother continues moving around the room, emptying her suitcase and Santana knows she isn't giving her her full attention.

"Actually I need to talk to both you and Papi. Can we maybe go downstairs and sit down?"

That makes her mother freeze and she turns, looking Santana up and down carefully as if that will give her some clue as to what this may be about. She mustn't find it though as she just nods and gestures for Santana to lead the way.

Once they're back downstairs, her mother asks, "Where is your father?"

Santana points towards his office. "He's working." She shoves her hands in her Cheerios jacket and looks down at the floor.

"I'll get him."

Santana waits at the bottom of the stairs. She can hear her parents talking, though her mother does seems to be trying to keep her voice low.

"Lin, can you leave that for a minute and come into the living room?"

"Is it important? Because I really need to catch up with work."

She hears her mother take a deep breath. "Santana says she has something she needs to tell us."

"She's not..." Her father sounds afraid, though she isn't sure of what.

"I don't know, but if she is, please don't shout at her."

"Shout at her? I'll do more than shout. It'll be that Puckerman boy's, won't it?"

They think that she's pregnant. She almost finds it amusing considering the truth, but she's also a little offended that they're so quick to jump to that conclusion.

"I warned you he was bad news. But even after he got the Fabray girl pregnant, you still didn't do anything, you just let Santana continue to date him."

"I don't think she's been seeing him for a while now."

"Well whoever it is, I'll kill him. What was his name? That last boy she brought over to the house? The one who took her to prom. I knew he was acting suspicious when I came home to find him sitting on the sofa that day. That's because he knew he'd gone and knocked her up." Her father is definitely angry now and that doesn't exactly fill her with confidence. "Well she's going to have to tell us his name and I'm going over there to..."

"I'm not pregnant."

They both freeze when she speaks, their heads snapping towards the doorway.

She rolls her eyes at them, then storms off into the living room, sinking down into one of the armchairs.

They follow after her and sit down on the sofa opposite her. Her mother looks a little embarrassed, her father just relived.

She folds her arms and scowls at them. "Why would you assume I was pregnant?" She's stalling, she's aware of that, but needs a minute to figure out what exactly to say.

Her parents look at each other. Eventually her mother answers her, carefully choosing her words. "Mija, it's just that..."

"You think I'm a slut."

Her mother shakes her head. "No, we don't."

"Yes, you do." She knows they do. It explains the supply of condoms that randomly show up in her bedroom every few months.

Her father keeps his eyes fixed on the carpet. "Santana, you have always been overly interested in boys."

"Except I'm not." Santana can feel the tears starting. "I'm not interested in boys at all. I never have been." Her voice wavers slightly as she flicks between anger at them for never having noticed the truth, and fear over the consequences of letting them in on her secret. "How can you not have realised that?" She knows she isn't being fair, she's been hiding this for so long and it's not like they've spent much time around her to even have the chance to notice. Now they just look confused and she decides to just say it. "Mami, Papi, I'm gay."

It's done now, the words are out there and she's hit with a sudden wish that she could somehow take them back, but the damage is done. She can't even look at them, doesn't dare see their reactions. She rubs at her eyes, desperately trying to stop from crying in front of them. Her father has always seen tears as a sign of weakness and she doesn't want to disappoint him any more than she already has.

Neither of them say anything, but after a few minutes her father stands. "Excuse me."

Santana looks up just in time to see him leave the room. "Papi?" He just keeps walking so she climbs to her feet to go after him, though she doesn't even know why she thinks that's a good idea. She doesn't make it far though as her mother moves to block her way.

"Just give him a minute, Santana." She guides her over to the sofa and gently pushes her to sit down. "You've given us a bit of a shock. Give your father chance to absorb this information."

"You honestly had no idea?" She has to ask, though she's not sure she wants an answer, doesn't want that confirmation that her parents really don't know her at all.

Her mother perches on the coffee table in front of her. She doesn't answer right away, and Santana can tell she's thinking about it. "Sometimes, I'd catch you looking at Brittany, looking at her with so much love that I'd stop and wonder..." She trails off, running a hand over her face. "But no, I never suspected it was anything more than a crush on your best friend. I mean, Santana, you've dated so many boys, we had no reason to think otherwise."

Her mother has a point. And wasn't that exactly why she did it? Why she made sure she was always seen with a guy as much as possible? So nobody would question it? But it still bothers her that her own mother fell for it.

Her mother places a hand on her arm, causing her to finally look at her. "Brittany, is she your..." Again the words fall away. "Are you and her..."

Santana nods. "I'm sorry, Mami, but I love her. I love her so much. I tried not to, I promise, I really did, but..." Now she can't stop herself from crying.

Her mother moves across to sit next to her, sliding an arm around her and pulling her into a sideways hug. "Shh, it's okay, it's okay."

"It's not." She needs to tell her mother the rest of it. "It's not because the entire state is going to know. I'm going to be outed on TV and everybody is going to see it and know the truth."

Her mother pulls back to look at her. "What are you talking about?"

"They're using me to get at Coach Sylvester. Her opponent, that Salazar asshole, he's made a campaign ad asking why Coach let me be head cheerleader when I'm a lesbian and after it airs tonight everyone is going to know and there's not a fucking thing I can do about it."

Her mother must be in shock as she doesn't even tell her off for swearing. "But you're just a child, how can he..." Her mother kisses her forehead. "And it's definitely airing tonight?"

"According to Coach, yeah."

"I'll be back. Wait here." Her mother stands and quickly disappears into the hallway.

Santana moves over to the window, pulling back the blinds so she can see her car. It's empty and for a brief moment she thinks Brittany has abandoned her, but then she spots her sitting out on the front step, elbows resting on her knees, head in her hands. She's on her way to the door to go to her, when she runs into her mother, and quickly backs up into the living room.

"Your father is calling our lawyer. It may be too late but he's going to see if there's anything we can do to stop this."

Santana sits back down on the sofa. "So that no-one has to find out? So you don't have to live with the shame of everyone knowing your daughter is gay?"

"Santana, no. How can you think that?"

"So you're happy I'm gay?" She knows that they're not and there's an edge to her as the anger takes over. "Please. Let's be honest, this is just yet another way I've disappointed you, isn't it?"

"You've never disappointed us, Santana, we've never expected anything from you."

"Exactly." She jumps to her feet, pacing over to the other side of the room. "You've never expected anything from me. Except for me to not finish high school without ending up pregnant apparently." She wraps her arms around herself. "You've never once asked me what I plan to do after I graduate. Never mentioned college. Why is that, Mami?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "It's either because you never thought I'd amount to anything, or because you don't give a shit about me. So which is it?"

"Mija, you've never shown the slightest interest in going to college. To be honest you've never shown the slightest interest in anything. Ever since you were little, you've always been so indifferent to everything. Like you just didn't care, like nothing was important to you, and we didn't know what to do about that." Her mother looks close to tears herself now. "We didn't want to push you, you never have taken well to us interfering in your life, so we thought that if we left you to it, eventually you would figure out what you wanted to do with your future and let us know."

She turns away from Santana now. "And maybe we never did think that college was an option because you never seemed to. I guess I always thought as long as you didn't end up pregnant by any of those boys you're at school with, then you'd end up marrying a doctor or a lawyer."

"And end up some trophy wife?" It hurts that they think so little of her, even if she has had the same thoughts herself before now, but that was last year. Her plans have long since changed.

"Is that so bad a fate?" Her mother turns to face her and Santana can see the pain in her eyes. "After all, is that not what I am?"

And that is why Santana is determined to do more with her life. Ending up like her parents is one of her worst fears in fact. Of course she isn't about to tell her mother that. "Well, I'm sorry, Mami, but it isn't going to happen. And not just because I like girls."

Her mother goes and sits back down on the sofa, resting her head in her hands. "I've failed you, haven't I? As a mother?"

Santana frowns. "What are you talking about?"

"If this commercial had never happened, would you have ever told us the truth?"

Santana doesn't have an answer to that. "I don't know."

Her mother laughs. "And that's exactly my point. You didn't feel like you could talk to me about something as important as this. Why is that? What did you think we were going to do? Disown you?"

She shrugs, not wanting to give an honest answer to that.

"Oh Santana, I'm sorry if we ever made you think that."

"So wait, you're saying you're not going to?" The way her father couldn't even stand to be in the same room as her after she told them would suggest otherwise.

"No, of course not."

"But Papi..."

"Loves you. We both do. And I'll admit this is not something we would ever have chosen for you, but you just need to give us some time to adjust to the idea."

Santana can only nod. "I meant it when I said I'm going to stay at Britt's. Maybe for a few nights."

She half expects her mother to argue, but she doesn't. "Okay."

Santana starts to leave but stops in the doorway and turns back. "Mami? What about the rest of the family?"

"What do you want us to do?"

She's surprised that she's being given a choice. "I want to tell Abuela. I owe her that. But the rest? I really don't care." She doesn't, it's not like she's close to any of them, and it may be selfish but she's happy to leave her parents to deal with them.

"Okay. Well I'm sure they'll start phoning as soon as they see the ad."

She feels a little guilty, only now thinking about how this is going to affect her parents. "Do you want me to stay here tonight?" She really hopes they don't, she needs to be with Brittany.

Her mother shakes her head. "No, you go. Let us handle this."

She doesn't have to be told twice, she's out the room and out the front door immediately. Brittany leaps up when she steps outside. "Hey."

Santana closes the door behind her, leaning against it. "Hey." She pushes off it and throws herself into Brittany's arms, and this time doesn't even try to stop from crying.

Brittany wraps her arms around her and pulls her flush against her. "Was it bad?"

"No, it was just..." She doesn't even know what it was. She buries her face into Brittany's neck, and holds her tighter.

Brittany leads her back over to the step, and sits them down, her arms never moving from around Santana. "Long as it wasn't bad."

Santana sniffs. "I told them I was staying at yours. Is that okay?"

"Like you need to ask."

They both jump a little when the door opens again and her father joins them. Brittany tries to let go of Santana, but she won't let her.

Her father hangs back when he sees them. "Hello, Brittany."

"Hi, Mr Lopez." Santana can feel her shift against her and knows that she's nervous.

Her father sits down beside them. "Santana, I've spoken to Charlie about this video, and unfortunately there's nothing we can do at this late stage. If you'd come to us sooner, then maybe..." He sighs. "I'm sorry."

Santana doesn't say anything, there isn't anything to say. She hadn't expected him to be able to stop this. If Coach Sylvester couldn't, then no-one would be able to prevent this from happening. She resigned herself to that fact a week ago.

She doesn't know what to expect from him, but it certainly isn't him asking, "Brittany, do you love my daughter?"

Brittany's eyes widen and she starts to fidget, glancing down at Santana as if asking her permission to answer truthfully. When Santana nods slightly, Brittany turns to her father. "Yes, Sir, I do."

He stares straight ahead out into the street. "I always wanted a son."

Santana lets out a huff, she's heard this speech before, how it was always such a disappointment that he ended up with a daughter instead. Brittany nudges her though before she can interrupt, a hint to let him talk.

"And when I got this amazing strong independent daughter, I thought it's okay. She'll grow up and get married and I'll have a son-in-law and I'd be able to talk sports and cars with him. I know it sounds stupid, but it mattered. Having another man in the family. That I'd still have someone to watch the Superbowl with while the women cooked the dinner."

"You think Santana will ever be able to cook?"

He sighs. "I suppose you have a point there."

"Hey." Santana thinks she should be offended, but she has set the kitchen on fire on more than one occasion, though it's usually due to Brittany distracting her, so totally not her fault.

"I had all these plans for you, Santana, how I thought your life was going to turn out. So forgive me if I'm having a little trouble letting that future go. I'm trying though, I am trying."

Brittany shifts closer to her. "Would it help if I promised that someday we'll give you a grandson?"

Santana pulls away from her, eyes wide. "Brittany!" She's only just come out to her parents and here Brittany is talking about them having children? More scary is the way that Brittany is talking about it like it's no big deal.

"And if the first one is a girl, we'll just keep going until we have a boy."

"Brittany!" Santana holds her hands over her face, not being able to look at either of them right now.

Her father however seems to find it amusing and laughs. "Grandchildren, huh? I think I'd like that. Whether they're boys or girls." He places a hand on Santana's shoulder, squeezing gently. "I'll see you girls later." He stands and goes back inside the house.

Brittany pulls Santana's hands away from her face. "You okay?"

"Okay? Yeah, apart from the heart attack you just gave me. Telling my dad we're going to have babies? Really?"

Brittany kisses her cheek, then jumps to her feet. "Well, we are." She skips off down the path towards the car, leaving Santana gaping after her. She turns to shout back to her, "Relax, I said someday."

Santana shakes her head, then follows after her. Someday. She might just be okay with that.


	10. I Kissed A Girl  Part 4

"You need to stop looking at me like that." Santana doesn't mean to snap at Brittany, she really doesn't, and as usual she regrets it immediately. But it's just that she's been on the receiving end of that same look all day and she thinks it's only natural that eventually she wasn't going to be able to take it any longer.

Brittany leans back against the lockers, her eyes darting around the hallway, for what Santana doesn't know. "Like what?"

"Like you expect me to break apart at any second."

Brittany drops her gaze down to the floor. "Well I would ask if you were okay, but that only seems to make you mad lately."

Santana slams her locker shut. "Is it any wonder? It gets a little annoying when people are constantly asking you that." Brittany looks up now and as Santana had expected there's a flash of hurt in her eyes. Santana sighs. "I'm sorry, B. I'm just a little on edge after this morning." Everybody seems to be either giving her pitying looks or staring at her in silent judgment. Or not so silent in some cases.

"Who was he? The jerk that was hassling you." As usual Brittany seems to automatically know what she's thinking.

"Some sophomore from the rugby team." Santana shrugs. "You know until today I didn't even know McKinley had a rugby team. But apparently it's now open season on Santana Lopez, and all these assholes who wouldn't have even dared talk to me before, think they can come up to me and start giving me shit." She walks down the hallway, Brittany falling into step beside her. "And what do I do? I fucking freeze, and have to be rescued by Rachel Berry and the PowerPuff Girls."

"Best Band Name Ever." Brittany's smile quickly turns into a frown. "Wait, which one am I? I'm totally Bubbles, right?"

"Babe, you're way too cool to be any of the PowerPuff Girls, and you know it."

Brittany looks a little disappointed to hear that, but seems to quickly shake it off. "You'd tell me right, if anyone else was giving you trouble?" She grabs Santana's arm, stopping her in the middle of the hallway. "Because you know I've got your back and I'd take them all out if you wanted me to. Teachers, students, even the Glee Club. I'd kill every single one of them if you asked me to."

For once Santana can't quite tell if Brittany is joking or not so she pulls her into the nearest empty classroom. "Listen, much as I appreciate the offer, I do not want you committing mass murder in my name, okay? Or arranging for anyone to meet with an accident." She thinks it's best to get that clear, just in case Brittany is being serious. "Promise me there'll be no Sneaky Brittany over this."

"But it's not fair that they're allowed to get away with it."

Santana sits down on one of the desks. "No, it's not, but it doesn't mean I want you going all Dexter on me, because we both know you'd only end up wanting my help disposing of the bodies, and Britt, I'm really not good with blood or decaying corpses. So let's not go down the serial killer route, okay?"

Brittany moves closer to her, shaking her head and smiling slightly. "It's cute how you pretend to be such a badass, but you're really like the most squeamish person I know." Brittany slides her arms around her waist and kisses her. Santana knows she's only doing it so she forgets to be offended by that comment, and they both know it will work.

When she pulls away, Brittany stays where she is. Santana can feel her fingers drawing patterns across her lower back, and she knows Brittany is trying to work up the nerve to say something.

She places her arms around Brittany's neck, pulling her closer. "Just say it."

Brittany inhales slowly before speaking. "I won't ever forgive him for what he's done to you, Santana. I know you have, but I can't. I'm sorry."

She knows she's talking about Finn. He's the one topic of conversation that they've been making a point to avoid, but she should have known that couldn't go on forever. "Britt..."

"I hate him. I've never hated anyone as much as I hate him, and I know you asked me to let it go, but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I can't seem to do that for you. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to do that." Brittany's eyes are starting to water and Santana quickly starts to wipe the tears away with her thumbs.

"Shh, it's okay." Santana pulls her into a hug, wrapping her arms around her. "It's okay for you to feel like that."

Brittany slips out of her grip, moving over to the other side of the room, putting some distance between them, and not just physically. "But then why do you not hate him? How come you could forgive him so easily, but I can't?"

"You think it was easy for me to do that?" A shrug is the only answer she gets. "Believe me, Britt, it wasn't easy." She slides off the desk and takes a few steps towards Brittany, but stops when she backs away. "I hated him so much at first. I must have plotted hundreds of ways for him to meet his demise." She's not exaggerating there, she was writing them down at one point. "But eventually I realised he wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth all the energy I was wasting on hating him. And then when he tried to make things right, even if he completely missed the point and this whole week has been more than a little offensive, he still did try, and that has to count for something, doesn't it?"

Brittany shakes her head. "No. It doesn't."

"And like I said, it's okay for you to feel like that." Santana tries to close the distance between them again and thankfully this time Brittany lets her. "But I had to let it go. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have been able to deal with everything else. Can you understand that?" She's asking a lot from Brittany, as she doesn't fully understand it herself. By all rights, she should hate Finn Hudson, but yet she doesn't.

"No, I don't understand it, I don't understand it at all, but if that's how you feel, then I'll accept that." Brittany finally makes eye contact with her, and Santana takes that as a sign that she can hug her again. She's more than a little aware of the open door though and keeps it brief, pulling away after a few seconds.

Brittany still looks upset, so Santana feels a change of subject is in order. "So how bout Lady Hummel, huh? Never thought he would have the balls to pull a stunt like rigging an election."

Well so much for that plan, as she only succeeds in making Brittany look even more upset. "Do you think he did it?"

"Figgins seems to think so."

Brittany doesn't look convinced. "Why would Kurt do something like that though?"

"Babe, because he knew it was the only way in hell he had a chance of beating you."

"You really think that?"

Santana shrugs. Of course she does. "You're awesome. He's not. No way you weren't going to win this thing." That at least earns her a small smile. "Now come on, lets get out of here. You know I don't like spending any longer than I have to in this stupid school. Even if it is in your company." She starts towards the door, but Brittany snakes an arm around her waist and pulls her back.

"Santana, are you sure you don't want me to come with you to your Abuela's tonight? I don't have to come inside. I can wait in the car again."

Santana hesitates before answering. "You don't have to do that."

"I want to go with you."

"We've talked about this. I need to do this on my own. I need to prove that I can do that much." Santana reaches out and places a hand on Brittany's cheek, softly caressing the skin with her thumb. "And I'll be fine. It's sweet, but you have to stop worrying about me all the time."

"I'm allowed to worry about you, Santana. In fact I'm supposed to worry about you. Isn't it kinda my job as your girlfriend?"

"Well you don't need to worry about this. I can do this."

"I know you can, but San, you were nearly having panic attacks about telling your parents, and this is your Abuela we're talking about. I'm going to worry." Brittany takes hold of her hand, lacing their fingers together.

"I'll be fine. I'll call you right after I'm done, okay?"

"You'd better."

Santana nods. "I will. And trust me, Britt, if my parents didn't freak out over all this, then Abuela won't, right? I mean she's way cooler than they are."

"Have you talked to them today?"

"Why would I?" She knows it's only Brittany, and she has no reason to get defensive over the question, but old habits die hard. "They're always busy after they get back from a trip anyway. I don't want to be bothering them for no reason."

"Why are you still so scared to talk to them?" She should have known Brittany wouldn't believe any excuses that she came up with. "They were cool about it."

She doesn't think cool is the right word for it. "Brittany, I don't have the kind of relationship with them that you have with your parents. We don't talk about this kind of thing in my family. Hell, we don't talk about anything in my family. You know that."

Brittany doesn't say anything, just lets her continue.

"You know it's stupid. I think I must've spent far too much time with Berry during those West Side Story rehearsals, because I couldn't get this stupid song out of my head, and I don't even know why. I mean I wasn't exactly going to come out to them through song, was I? But it still kept playing over and over in my mind. That's how convinced I was that they were going to kick me out the second I told them."

"But they didn't." Brittany places her hands around her waist, locking them at the small of her back, and Santana wonders if she's doing that because she's worried she might bolt at any second.

"No, they didn't. And I guess it's because of that all this doesn't feel quite real. What if last night was a dream and I've still got to tell them? It makes more sense than them being even remotely okay with it, doesn't it?"

"It wasn't a dream, Santana."

Part of her knows that, but there's another part, the cynical part of her that won't quite let her fully believe it. "I'm just not ready to talk to them yet. Let me deal with my Abuela first."

"Okay."

She's surprised Brittany lets it go so easily. "Okay, so I'll drop you off at home and then get this over with." She holds out a hand to Brittany and when she takes it, she starts to tug her towards the door, but Brittany refuses to move.

"You should sing it in Glee club."

"What?"

Brittany shrugs. "The song that was stuck in your head. They're expecting you to sing tomorrow, right? So maybe it'd help if you sung that song."

She's not sure she'd be able to do that. Get up there and sing anything even remotely linked to how she's feeling right now. She doesn't want another argument with Brittany though, so instead she just nods. "We'll see."

* * *

><p>It needs to stop raining. It needs to stop raining because Jeff Pierce really doesn't like the rain, and that should be reason enough, right? He doesn't have something against all kinds of rain, after all a little light drizzle never hurt anyone. But the kind of rain they're getting tonight, where it's bouncing off the pavements, well that makes him nervous.<p>

It had been raining like this when at age eighteen he drove his truck off the road, resulting in a dislocated knee and the end of his football career.

It had been raining like this when at age twenty his parent's farm had been practically destroyed by fire, flood and a minor tornado.

And it had been raining like this when at age thirty-five he'd gotten stuck in gridlocked traffic trying to drive Cathy to the hospital after she went into labour three weeks early, and he'd had to deliver Ashley in the back of the car with the help of only an off-duty EMT and a kindergarten teacher.

So he thinks it's only normal for him to be nervous when the weather gets like this. Cathy tuts at him as he paces the room again, but she doesn't look up from her book. He crosses over to the window and pushes the blinds back so he can see outside. It still hasn't eased off, in fact he thinks it might even be coming down harder than before.

That's when he spots Santana's car parked at the bottom of the driveway. With the weather he can't tell if there's anyone inside or not. Today had been one of those rare occasions that Brittany had come home from school alone. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but suddenly he gets a bad feeling. His daughter had been awfully quiet and subdued during dinner, and that plus Santana's absence should have told him there was something wrong. He turns to his wife. "Cath, is Santana upstairs with Brittany?"

She looks up, and frowns. "If she is, she didn't use the door."

That doesn't mean anything. Santana is more than capable of gaining access to his daughter's room by climbing the tree that stands conveniently outside Brittany's window. They'd discovered that five years ago, the night that Santana had slipped and fallen into their front yard, taking out half of his prized Tulips in the process. That was also the night that he'd discovered that her parents had left their thirteen year old daughter home alone while they attended a fund-raiser in Columbus. And so it was him that had to spend the evening at the Emergency Room with two terrified teenagers, Brittany had been more scared about the damage than Santana and had refused to leave her side. And it was him that had to explain to the Lopezes the next day just why their daughter had a broken arm.

It still hadn't stopped Santana from using that tree to enter the house though, no matter how many times they've insisted she was always welcome here, and doesn't need to sneak inside. He glances out the window towards the tree. He should have cut that thing down. "I'll just go check they're okay."

"Jeff, leave them alone."

He can't. That bad feeling won't go away and he needs to know that they're both upstairs and nobody is physically injured. "Relax, I'll knock. I'm not stupid enough to go barging in on them." He really isn't. After all who knows what he might walk in on. He wonders if maybe that's something they need to look at now Brittany and Santana are official. Maybe lay down some ground rules concerning sleepovers. "I'm just going to see if Santana's up there." His wife only rolls her eyes at him, but doesn't say anything else so he takes that as permission to go and makes his way upstairs.

Brittany's bedroom door is ajar, but he knocks anyway, just in case. He finds both of his daughters in his eldest's room, sprawled out on Brittany's bed watching some Disney movie that he probably ought to know the title of, but there's no Santana. Neither of them react to his presence, nothing unusual in that. Ashley is focused on the TV screen, but Brittany has her cellphone in her hand and is staring at it as if by doing so it will do something.

He leans in the doorway. "Brittany, is everything okay?" She looks at him as if he's stupid for asking that after everything that's happened. He quickly amends his statement. "I mean between you and Santana. You haven't had a fight or anything?" He can't think of any other reason why Santana wouldn't have come inside.

Brittany sits up now. "No, everything's fine. Why?"

"It's just she's sitting outside in her car, and she usually only does that when you two aren't speaking to one another."

Brittany's on her feet and pushing past him before he even has chance to move out of her way. "Wear a jacket if you're going out there in this weather." He moves over to the top of the stairs and shouts after her disappearing form, "At least put some shoes on." He's not really surprised when she ignores him.

"Is Santana okay?"

He turns around to find Ashley hovering behind him. "What makes you ask that?" He's not really sure how much she understands about what's been happening over this past week, or if she even knows that Brittany and Santana are more than just friends. He's also not sure he's the best person to start trying to explain it to her if she doesn't.

Ashley shrugs. "She's always crying now. It's weird."

He agrees with her there. "She'll be fine."

Ashley doesn't look convinced but she walks back into Brittany's room and flops back down on the bed.

He heads downstairs to find Cathy waiting for him in the hallway. "What is going on?"

Brittany has left the front door wide open and he walks over to it so he can see outside, not that there's anything to see except Santana's car sitting out there in the rain. "Something's happened." He can't tell her more than that as he knows about as much as she does.

"With her parents?" Cathy stands beside him. "But Brittany said last night that they'd taken it better than everyone had expected."

"Maybe she was lying. Maybe they changed their minds. I don't know, but something's happened." He starts to step outside but Cathy places a hand on his arm.

"Let Brittany handle it. They'll come to us if they need us."

He sighs but does as she asks and follows her back into the living room. He doesn't sit though, just paces. He knows it's annoying Cathy, but he can't sit. He doesn't like when his family is hurting and there isn't anything he can do about it. He decides to instead concentrate on something he can do something about. "Do you think we need to stop Santana staying over in Brittany's room now?"

Cathy had gone back to her book, but closes it now, and gives him an incredulous look.

He sits down quickly, wanting to avoid getting into too much trouble here. "I don't mean right now this second obviously. But after everything has settled down? Don't we need to at least pretend to be responsible parents where our daughter is concerned? Otherwise aren't we condoning them having sex under our roof?"

Cathy folds her arms. "You don't think it's a little late for that? And I seem to remember you telling Santana you had no problem if she wanted to move in here."

He did, and he still doesn't, but he had meant move into the spare room, not into his daughter's bedroom. "I just think it's something we need to think about. Otherwise we're setting a precedent. And then what happens when Ashley wants to have boyfriends, or girlfriends stay over? All we'll get from her is, but you let Brittany. And then what do we do? Let her have whoever she wants sleep in her bed?"

She sighs. "I think this is a discussion for later, Jeff." That's as close as she'll get to admitting he has a point, and it's good enough for him.

He gets to his feet and crosses over to the window. "This is getting ridiculous. They can't sit out there all night."

"Do you want to go tell them that?"

He doesn't really want to go out there in the rain, but hey, if he has to be the one to step up, then so be it. He heads for the front door, Cathy following after him.

"Jesus, Jeff, I wasn't being serious."

He knows she wasn't, but the girls have been out there a while. Besides he wants to know what's happened, then maybe he can do something about it. He steps outside and Cathy doesn't follow him. As he jogs across the lawn, he wishes he'd taken his own advice and put on a jacket. Once he reaches the car, he knocks on the passenger window then waits a full thirty seconds, hoping that'll be enough warning for them to make themselves decent if they need to.

He opens the door to find Santana sitting in Brittany's lap, head buried into Brittany's neck, sobs shaking her body. Brittany is holding onto her so tight that her knuckles seem to have turned white, but she doesn't seem to be having any luck in getting Santana to stop crying. Or maybe this is an improvement, a thought that scares him a little. "What happened?" He crouches down at the side of the car.

Brittany shifts slightly, turning her head to glance at him, but her attention is soon back on Santana. "Her Abuela happened."

He's met the Lopez matriarch only once, but Santana talks about her enough that he has a pretty good idea of what she's like, and of how much Santana has always looked up to her. "Let's get her inside."

Brittany nods and with some difficulty as Santana won't let go of her, they manage to make it back to the house. Brittany tries to take Santana upstairs but he guides them into the living room instead, where Brittany sits Santana down on the sofa.

He hangs back, having no idea what to do to help. Cathy seems to have made herself scarce and he wanders through into the kitchen in search of her. He finds her making cocoa. When he enters, she asks, "How bad is it?"

"Looks like she told her grandmother."

"And it didn't go well." It's not a question. "Jeff, how much more is that girl going to have to go through in one week?"

He moves to stand behind her and slides his arms around her waist, squeezing her gently. "Hey, she's strong. She'll get through this. We'll make sure of it."

She nods. "Why don't you go see if they need anything?"

He returns to the other room to find they've moved now, Brittany now sitting with her back against the sofa, Santana curled into her side. Santana seems to have finally been able to stop crying, and they're now talking in hushed whispers, and he suddenly no longer wants to interrupt. He can't seem to bring himself to leave either though.

Brittany is stroking Santana's hair. "I'm so sorry, San. I should never have let you go alone. I should insisted on coming with you."

He can only just make out Santana's voice when she answers. "I thought it'd be okay, you know? I thought she loved me enough that it'd be okay. I mean if my parents didn't disown me, I didn't think she'd..." She doesn't get any further as she starts crying again.

Brittany pulls her closer and kisses her forehead. He takes that as his cue to go, knowing that they don't need him right now, not when they have each other.

* * *

><p>"Who would have thought Rachel Berry would have been the one to stuff the ballot boxes? I always knew she was a conniving little bitch." Santana's grinning and she's taking far more satisfaction in this than Brittany likes. "And she's not allowed to compete at Sectionals? I really need to send Figgins a thank you card."<p>

Brittany collapses face down onto her bed. It's been a long day. A long week in fact. And even though she should be excited about her win in the election, it's only now hit her that Senior Class President actually comes with a few more responsibilities than she had expected, and she's suddenly not sure if she wants them. For one thing it will mean her having less time to spend with Santana, and she's really not okay with that.

At the moment however, her girlfriend is far too busy gloating about Rachel Berry to pay much attention to her. "Normally I would have been impressed that she'd do something like this, but not when she tries to screw over my girl. She's just lucky Figgins got to her first and did such an awesome job of making her cry, or else I'd have gone all Lima Heights on her hobbit ass."

Brittany just buries her face in the pillow. She figures Santana will get bored of talking about Rachel Berry eventually. She got bored of hearing about her two hours ago.

"Though I have to admit that I'm a little disappointed we won't get to beat her at Sectionals. And of course, when we win, we'll have months of listening to the rest of New Directions complaining that the only reason the Trouble Tones won was because they didn't have Rachel on their team."

She groans into the pillow.

Brittany feels the bed dip as Santana sits down beside her. "And you're not even listening to me, are you?"

"I'm listening." She is. She might not care about anything Santana is saying, but she's still listening. It's not like she'd ever ignore Santana. It doesn't mean she's going to lift her head up or open her eyes any time soon though.

She feels Santana place a hand on her back, fingers running gently up and down her spine. "You're exhausted. Maybe I should go stay at my house for tonight. Let you get some sleep."

Brittany mumbles her protest when she feels the hand move away. Then Santana leans down to press her lips to the top of her head. "Get some rest, Britt Britt. I'll see you tomorrow."

Those words register and she doesn't like them. She shoots an arm out to grab at whatever part of Santana she can to stop her leaving. She probably should have opened her eyes first though as her hand only seems to have found Santana's breast.

Santana laughs. "B, if you wanted to cop a feel, you only had to ask."

That hadn't been the plan, but hey, she isn't about to waste the opportunity so she allows her hand to stay where it is. "Don't want you to go."

"So what, you want me to sit here and watch you sleep?"

"Yeah."

"That will feel a little creepy."

"Don't care." Brittany settles back down, closing her eyes once more.

"You gonna move your hand at all?"

"Nope."

"So wait, not only am I not gonna get laid tonight, or even get my cuddle on. But you get to second base? I'm not liking this idea of yours. I think I'd rather leave than stay here and spend the night being sexually frustrated."

Brittany knows Santana's joking, but something in her words tells her there's something she's missing. She sits up and frowns at Santana, reluctantly pulling her hand away as she does so. Santana won't make eye contact with her, but Brittany notices the flash of guilt on her face. "You want to go home."

"I don't want to." Santana folds her arms. "But I have to face them at some point. So why not get it over with?"

Brittany's not mad, just surprised. "I could come with you. I don't mind sleeping at yours."

Santana reaches out to take both of her hands in hers. "As much as I'd love that, I don't think my parents would. I doubt they're quite ready for you to be staying over yet."

Santana has a point. Brittany's just thankful that at least her parents have no problem with her and Santana sharing a bed. "I don't want to spend the night apart though." She can tell it won't take much to get Santana to stay. After all she's already said she doesn't want to leave and she'll probably take any excuse not to. Brittany knows she's being selfish, but she doesn't want to be alone tonight, or to not wake up with Santana in the morning. She shifts onto her knees and places her hands on Santana's hips. "I can make it worth your while."

Santana raises an eyebrow. "What happened to you wanting to go to sleep?"

"Changed my mind." Brittany leans forward so she can kiss Santana's neck. When she grazes the skin with her teeth, it earns her a moan so she's not surprised when Santana doesn't fight her and instead pulls her down onto the bed.

Brittany's not sure what time it is when she next wakes up. It's dark outside though, beyond that she really doesn't want to move to check the time.

Santana's head is resting on her chest, one leg thrown over her own. She can tell she's awake because she seems to be tracing shapes across her bare stomach. It tickles so Brittany places a hand on top of hers to stop her. "Hey."

Santana lifts her head. "Hey, Sleepy. Told ya you were too exhausted for us to get it on. We didn't even make it to a third round before you practically passed out on me."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Your performance in rounds one and two more than made up for it." Santana settles back against her and Brittany wraps her arm around her.

They lie in silence for a bit, but then Brittany finds herself asking, "That wasn't the song, was it?"

"What song?"

"The one that you sang today in Glee club about cravings. It wasn't the song that you said had been stuck in your head."

"What makes you think that?"

Brittany's not sure how to explain it, she just knows. "Because it didn't mean anything, it wasn't about your feelings."

Santana lets out a huff. "It wasn't any less relevant than anything else that's been sung this week."

That is true. "But why didn't you sing the other one?"

"Because I didn't want to. It wasn't something that I wanted to share with anyone in that room."

She can hear the frustration in Santana's voice so decides to back off. Again she waits until she feels Santana start to relax in her arms, then asks a different question. "What was it?"

"The song? Does it matter?"

"Just curious."

"It was just something off an album that I may or may not have stolen from Berry at some point during rehearsals last month."

Brittany thinks she maybe should be a little more worried about Santana's habit of stealing things, but that's something for another time. "Will you sing it for me?"

"You mean now?"

"Yeah."

Santana pushes away from her, rolling over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.

Brittany twists onto her side to watch her. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Hold on, I'm thinking."

She shouldn't have asked, she knows not to push Santana, yet here she goes making the same mistake again. "Forget I said anything, okay?" She reaches for Santana's hand, relieved when Santana lets her take hold of it.

They lie like that. Brittany not daring to move any closer to Santana, not daring to move away or let go of her hand. It takes her a while to realise that Santana is humming. It's so quiet she can only just make it out, but it's definitely humming. She doesn't make any movement, doesn't even breathe for fear of Santana stopping if she does. As she waits, the humming becomes singing, but Santana's voice is so soft and low she can't make out the words.

She gives Santana's hand what she hopes is a reassuring squeeze and sure enough Santana starts to sing just loud enough for her to make out the lyrics. "_Cause I couldn't remain living inside this lie, every day that I did more and more of me died_."

Brittany stays frozen. Straight away she knows why Santana would never have sung this song in front of the others, and she feels honored that Santana would share it with her, is still willing to open herself up to her like this.

"_I'm just here to remind you that I'm still your baby, your blood, have your eyes, have your smile. I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry you're wounded_." Santana's voice shakes slightly on those lines, but still she carries on. "_But I'm not ashamed of this fire I've inflamed_." At this she rolls over onto her side, her free hand coming to rest on Brittany's stomach once more. "_I was living this life for somebody else, now this is my chance to live it for myself. All I ask is in time, you give me your blessing_."

Santana's crying now so Brittany slides closer to her, pulling her into her arms.

Santana sniffs and wipes at her eyes. "God, this week has kinda been shit."

"Yeah." Brittany holds her tighter. "It's all over now though, right? No more Lady Music week?"

"No more lady music week, but I'm not sure it's all over with though, Britt. It's Ohio and lots of people are going to have a problem with us being together."

"I know, but do you care if they do?"

"Not enough to not want to be with you."

"Okay, then don't you think the hard part's over? Now that everybody knows? We at least don't have to hide it anymore, and that has to make everything easier. I love you, Santana. That is the only thing that matters in all this."

"You don't always have to keep showing off just how smart you are, you know?"

Brittany shrugs, smiling slightly. "I think now I'm the President I do actually."

"I'm so fucking proud of you, Britt. I don't think I told you that with everything else that's been happening. And I want to thank you again. For getting me through all this. For having the patience to stick by me, even when I was acting like an idiot. And I don't think you'll ever know just how much I love you, but I'm going to spend every second trying to show you."

Brittany's only response is to kiss Santana until her lips are swollen and sleep starts to claim her. She falls asleep with Santana in her arms, safe in the knowledge that she'll wake up with her still in her arms in the morning.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well I promise that's it for I Kissed A Girl. Not sure how I ended up writing so many words on one episode. Next Chapter we'll be moving swiftly on to Hold On To Sixteen.**

**Thanks to everyone for the reviews, and to everyone that's reading this.**

**The song was Blessing by Scott Alan which I'm still convinced should have been used on the show at some point.**


	11. Hold On To Sixteen: Part 1

Santana's at lunch when Sam decides to turn up to annoy her. Brittany is stuck in some Student Council meeting, so she's been forced to brave the cafeteria alone, but as soon as Sam enters and spots her, he seems to make a beeline for her and sits himself down across from her.

"Well, well, Sammy Evans." She leans back in her chair and offers him one of the fakest smiles. "Just can't stay away, can you? I'm hoping you didn't come back to McKinley for another shot at the twins though, Trouty, because if so, you missed your chance I'm afraid."

He only smiles. "So I heard. You and Brittany, huh?"

So her smile might become slightly less fake at the mention of her girl. "Let me guess, you're here to bitch about how I'm making you look bad? I date you, and you put me off men for life?"

"Is that how it happened?" His smile gets even bigger and she wonders if it's even possible to ever offend him. "Because I remember it a little differently."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah, way I see it? I'm the guy who made you realise that you couldn't live another day without Brittany. I'm the reason you two are together, and I think you owe me for that." There's a dangerous glint in his eye.

"I'm not watching Avatar with you again." She shakes her head. "Or Star Wars. Or Star Trek. Or that stupid space pirate show."

Judging by his horrified expression maybe it is possible to offend him after all. "Firefly is not a stupid space pirate show. It's a work of genius. Not cool insulting Joss Whedon, Santana, not cool."

"Whatever." If it gets her out of any kind of sci-fi marathon, it's worth it.

"Anyway I was thinking more like you naming your first born after me."

What is it with people assuming that her and Brittany are going to be churning out babies right out of high school? "You want me to call our kid Trouty Mouth? Wouldn't that count as child abuse?"

"But you owe me your future happiness. I don't get anything for that?"

"You know I've just remembered, didn't I dump your sorry ass for Dave Karofsky? So doesn't that mean I should be naming my children after him, not you?" She's been thinking about Karofsky quite a bit lately with everything that's happened, wondering if he's still lost deep in Narnia, or if like her, he's also found his way out of the closet one way or another.

Sam's smile fades. "Yeah, in my version, that didn't happen either."

Okay so maybe she feels a little bit bad about the way she treated Sam, but it's not like he wasn't only using her to make Quinn jealous anyway. He never had any feelings for her, hell, he never even seemed to be all that into her at all. Which she finds a little offensive actually now that she thinks about it.

She's about to tell him as much when he speaks first. "Seriously though, Kurt told me what happened, with Finn and the commercial and everything, and it really sucks that it went down like that. I'm sorry."

"Not like it's your fault, Trouty."

"Still, I wish I'd been here. I'd have had your back, you know?"

"God, what is it with all you guys wanting to be my lesbro?" First Puck, now Sam. She just hopes Finn doesn't ask her next.

Sam just looks confused. "Is that like being your bitch? Because I had enough of that when we were dating."

"Nevermind." She rolls her eyes at him.

"Do you need a lesbro?" He places his elbows on the table and leans closer to her. "Are people giving you trouble?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

Most people would take that as a hint to drop the subject, but not Sam and his guppy lips. "Which means what?"

She shrugs. "Some bitch on the Cheerios made some snide comment that involved the word dyke yesterday." She's not sure why she's even telling him this.

"And you kicked her ass right?" There's a flash of anger in his eyes, but it's quickly gone.

"Sadly, I didn't get the chance. She was stupid enough to say it in front of Coach Sylvester who subjected her to a twenty minute put down, which was pretty damn impressive even by Coach's standards, and then once she'd broke down in tears, Coach kicked her off the squad. Payback's a bitch, right?"

"And the rest of the Cheerios?"

"Most of them have been okay with it. Or acting like they are. Coach has made it clear that anyone who has a problem with me and Britts ain't going to last long on the squad."

"It's kinda cool that she'd stand up for you like that, even if her being nice is a little creepy."

"Not really. She's only doing it because she knows she's no chance of winning at Regionals without me and Britt to bail her out. It's just self preservation."

"Or you know, maybe she actually does care about you."

"I somehow doubt that." She'd love to know just how he's managed to avoid becoming even slightly cynical after everything his family has been through.

He's quiet for a moment, studying the table in front of him. Eventually he looks up. "How'd your folks take it?"

She still isn't one hundred percent sure on that. "Like it's no big deal."

"That's good, right?"

She wishes she knew. It's almost like they're ignoring the whole thing, which is only slightly better than them throwing her out onto the street. They haven't even mentioned it since she told them, and she hasn't dared to be the one to bring up the subject. "Guess so."

He looks like he's about to say more on the topic, but she's saved by her phone beeping as she receives a text message.

**Janitor's closet. Five minutes?**

Guess that tells her how Brittany wants to spend the rest of the time before afternoon classes.

She quickly slides her phone into her pocket. "Sorry, Sammy, as lovely as our little catch up session has been, I gots to run." She's on her feet before he can protest.

He puts a hand on her arm to stop her though. "Santana?"

"What now, Trouty?" She turns back to face him.

"I just wanted to say that it suits you, you know?"

"What does?"

"You being happy."

She rolls her eyes, but she can't stop herself from smiling. "It's good to have you back, Evans." She leans down, keeping her voice low. "But tell anyone I said that and I will unleash Snix on your ass."

"Understood." He nods quickly. "Now get outta here, go find your girl."

She doesn't need to be told twice.

* * *

><p>"This isn't good, you guys."<p>

Brittany really wishes Mercedes wouldn't state the obvious like that. She stays where she is, lying on her back on the stage, her eyes fixed up on the ceiling. She can think of much better ways she could be spending her free time, something she seems to already have less of since becoming Student President, but Mercedes has called an emergency meeting of the Trouble Tones. Well, an emergency meeting that consists of Brittany, Santana and Sugar meeting her in the auditorium. Brittany isn't sure if the other girls have just not bothered to show up or if Mercedes didn't think it important to invite them.

Santana's sitting at the piano, filing her nails, attempting to look uninterested in the conversation, but Brittany knows otherwise. "Look, they still don't have Berry. You really think them bringing Trouty Mouth back is going to make a difference?"

Sugar must be feeling left out of the conversation. "I don't get it. What's the big deal with the boy with the big lips? He looks like a huge dork to me."

Brittany lifts her head so she can watch how Mercedes reacts to that. Unimpressed is the word she would use.

Santana however doesn't seem to feel the same. "He is a huge dork." When Mercedes glares at her, she simply shrugs. "What? He is."

Sugar has to ask, "But you still dated him?"

Brittany sits up now, the conversation suddenly having captured her attention.

Santana's eyes meet hers. "It was an act of charity. I saved him from Quinn who was cheating on him with Finn."

"Wait, he dated Quinn as well as you and Mercedes? What's so good about this guy that three of you went out with him?"

When neither Santana or Mercedes look like they're going to answer, Brittany suggests, "He's a pretty good kisser." When Santana frowns at her, she quickly adds, "Not as good as you, but come on, his lips are pretty awesome to kiss."

Sugar's eyes widen. "You too? What, was he like working his way through the whole Glee club or something? And now he's back to finish the job?"

Mercedes doesn't seem to like that idea. "Can we all focus on Sectionals here for a minute?"

Sugar ignores her. "So do New Directions only ever date each other? Is it like a competition with you guys to see who can complete the full set first? Who's in the lead?"

All three of them answer at the same time. "Puck."

Mercedes folds her arms and scowls. "Forget about the romantic goings on of New Directions. It's not important who Puck is sleeping with this week. What is important is making sure we don't get screwed over at Sectionals."

Sugar sighs and sits down on the stage. "I still don't get why you're worrying about one boy, even if he does have magic lips. We've got Adele. We can't loose if we do Adele."

Santana had gone back to filing her nails, but she freezes now. When she speaks her voice is low and even, her don't argue with me tone. "We're not doing Adele."

Sugar opens her mouth to say something but quickly closes it when Santana holds a hand up and repeats, "We're not doing Adele."

Both Sugar and Mercedes turn to look at Brittany, as if silently asking her for help here, but this is as much news to her as it is to them. When Mercedes realises that Brittany isn't going to say anything, she carefully takes a step towards Santana. "Are you crazy? The Adele Mash-up is our strongest number. Not doing that will mean us loosing for sure. And just what are we supposed to replace it with?"

Brittany doesn't like the way she's advancing on Santana, and quickly says the first thing that pops into her head. "Adele's overrated. She just warbles. Who wants to hear that? We should totally do something new." Her rambling does the job of getting Mercedes to stop.

"Well you two had better come up with a new number and quick, because I'm not losing because we half assed the performance with a song we came up with at the eleventh hour. I had enough of that with New Directions." She points at Santana, then Brittany, before she turns and walks out. Sugar stares at them for a second, then goes after her. It feels like Sugar is always quick to avoid being alone with them lately.

Brittany waits until she hears the door slam closed and then turns to face Santana. "You do know we won't be able to come up with anything even half as awesome before the competition?" Brittany waits for her to explain her thinking here, but Santana stays silent, pretending to study her nails.

Brittany moves to sit down beside her on the piano stool. "Now I know I'm awesome at choreographing kick ass numbers, but this isn't giving me much time to work with, San." They'd decided on the three songs for their set list weeks ago, and unfortunately haven't been rehearsing much else, so Mercedes really isn't wrong that cutting the Adele song at this late stage will definitely screw them over.

Santana keeps her eyes fixed on the piano, seeming to give that some consideration at least, but then she shakes her head. "I can't get up on this stage and sing that song again, Britt. I just can't do it."

There goes all the rest of Brittany's free time before Sectionals then. "Okay. You got any ideas?"

Santana clearly doesn't have a clue. Not that Brittany has either, but then it wasn't her idea to make this last minute change. She'd hoped Santana would have had some kind of backup plan when she'd made this decision for the group, but apparently not.

Santana stands, and paces over to the other side of the stage, her arms wrapped around herself. "I'm sorry, Britt. I thought I could do it, but then when Sugar mentioned it today..."

"It's okay. We'll figure something out."

Santana doesn't seem convinced and keeps pacing. "I know it's just a song, and it's stupid, but even thinking about it..."

Brittany crosses over to her and places her hands on her arms to still her. "It's okay." She rests her forehead against hers. "I get it." She doesn't, not fully anyway, but it's enough to know that Santana doesn't want to do it, and that's much more important to her than them winning Sectionals. "We'll come up with something better than Adele."

The auditorium door opens again and they look up to find Mercedes marching back towards them, once again Sugar trailing after her. Mercedes stops in front of the stage. "Beyonce. If we're changing our game-plan at this late stage, then it'd better involve Beyonce."

Santana edges away from Brittany slightly, subtly trying to wipe her eyes. "What happened to it being left to me and Britts to do this alone?"

Mercedes glances back at Sugar. "I'm the leader of this group, so I'm responsible for what we do, and giving you free reign is just dangerous. Who knows what crazy ass idea you two would come up with. But I'm guessing it'd involve a solo for Satan and a twenty minute dance break for Brittany, while the rest of us wait in the wings. And I'm not about to let that happen. Whatever we do, it's a group number or nothing. And I think it's time to break out the Beyonce."

Now this is something Brittany can work with. "Old school Beyonce. It has to be old school Beyonce."

Santana seems to catch on. "Are we talking Destiny's Child?"

Brittany nods. "I know just the song."

* * *

><p>"Will you sit down? You're making my head hurt."<p>

Santana stops mid-pace and frowns at Brittany. When her girlfriend starts to pout though, she can only sigh and she throws herself down onto the sofa next to her. "Your parent's really didn't tell you what this is about?"

Brittany shakes her head. "Nope. All they said was they needed to talk to us."

It can't be anything good. Santana's pretty certain that you don't get summoned to meet with your girlfriend's parents unless you're in trouble. The thing is she can't think of anything she's done wrong lately. In fact ever since they found out about her and Brittany, she's been on her very best behavior. "This sucks." Santana folds her arms and slouches down in her seat. It's the waiting that makes it worse. The Pierces had asked her to come over straight after school, yet they've been hanging around for half an hour now and there's still no sign of either of Brittany's parents.

Brittany places a hand on her arm. "Relax, it's just my Mom and Dad."

That's exactly the problem. She might have known the Pierces for pretty much her entire life, but now she's dating their daughter, things are different. For a start She knows from past experiences that she's not the kind of girl parents want their child involved with. Puck's mother had hated her from the first time she met her, and she'd received her fair share of disapproving looks from Trouty's parents whenever they'd come home to find her in his room. She's determined to never have the same happen with Brittany's parents, she can't afford for it to. She's had enough outside influences interfere with her relationship with Brittany and she isn't about to let anything else screw this up for her. No, she's more than capable of doing that all by herself, thank you very much. "I don't like this, Britt."

"It'll be nothing. Stop worrying."

"I can't. I feel like Ben Stiller in Meet The Parents or something, which makes absolutely no sense because I've known your parents forever."

Brittany shifts closer to her, resting a hand on her thigh. "Maybe there's something I can do to stop you worrying." When Brittany's hand starts to move higher, Santana has a pretty good idea of just how Brittany's planning to do that.

Santana quickly glances over to the door, trying to decide how bad an idea this is. "Where's Irish?" The last thing she wants is for the Leprechaun to walk in on them. She could really do without giving him any images to keep himself warm at night.

"Dunno. Don't care." Brittany kneels up on the sofa, throwing one leg other Santana's so she's straddling her. She leans forward and captures Santana's mouth with her own. After a moment, she runs her tongue across Santana's bottom lip, not wasting any time to deepen the kiss when Santana opens her mouth to her.

Once Brittany's lips are on her neck, Santana forgets all about protesting against doing this here when they expect Brittany's parents home at any minute.

She's vaguely aware of a car door slamming shut, but by this point Brittany's hand has made its way under her shirt, so it doesn't really register. The front door opening and raised voices filling the house does though. Thankfully Brittany reacts with her usual super speed and scrambles out of Santana's lap, sliding over to the far side of the sofa. In seconds, she's the picture of innocence. Though Santana doubts the same could be said for her, and she quickly attempts to smooth down her top. And skirt. And fix her hair.

"But it's not fair. Everybody else's parents are letting them go." Ashley's whining about something as she stomps down the hallway. Santana looks over to Brittany, raising an eyebrow to ask what's going on.

Brittany just shrugs. She probably learned a long time ago not to get involved in her sister's dramas.

"Yeah, well, I'm not everybody else's parents, am I?" Jeff's trailing after his daughter, but he stops in the doorway when he notices them sitting on the sofa. He gives them a suspicious look, then turns his attention back to Ashley. "You're too young to be going to parties."

"But Dad..."

"No."

"You're just mean. I hate you." Santana hears Ashley run up the stairs, followed swiftly by the sound of her room door slamming shut.

Cathy sighs as she walks past Jeff and enters the living room.

Jeff follows after her. "You said you'd back me up on this."

Cathy nods a hello to Santana and Brittany, then turns to face her husband. "I didn't say anything."

"Exactly. You didn't say anything. You don't want her going anymore than I do, but once again you were quite content to let me be the bad guy." Jeff folds his arms and scowls at her.

Santana leans across to Brittany, and whispers, "Should we leave them to it?"

Brittany looks unsure, but then takes hold of Santana's hand and pulls her to her feet, leading her towards the door.

"And where are you two sneaking off to?" They turn to find Jeff frowning at them.

They both answer at the same time. "Nowhere."

He points towards the dining room. "Come on. We need to have a family meeting."

Santana starts to do as she's told, but Brittany stops her by placing an arm across her chest. "Since when do we have family meetings?"

"Since now." Jeff leads the way into the other room, giving them no choice but to follow him. Cathy places a hand on each of their shoulders as they pass her and walks behind them. Santana can't tell if the gesture is a show of support, or if she's making sure they don't run. Either way she takes it as a sign that this really can't be anything good.

Once they're all seated at the table, they all stare at Jeff, waiting for him to start. "Okay, so you're probably wondering why I asked you both here."

Cathy rolls her eyes. "Is that really how you're going to start this conversation?"

"If you can do better, then feel free to take over."

"Oh no. This was all your idea, don't look for any help from me."

"You're doing it again. We agreed on a united front here."

Santana feels Brittany take hold of her hand underneath the table, but she's not sure if Brittany's more worried about what this conversation will turn out to be about, or about hearing her parents argue like this. Santana doesn't think that arguments are a common occurrence in the Pierce household.

Cathy stands, and paces over to the other side of the room, where she leans against the wall. "Fine, lets just get this over with."

Jeff turns back to face them. "Okay, I think we need to have a discussion about the two of you. More specifically the two of you being alone together. More specifically being alone in Brittany's bedroom. Or on the sofa. Or actually being alone in any part of the house."

She was right about this not being about anything good.

Brittany's grip on her hand tightens. "What about it?"

Jeff rubs at the back of his head, no doubt knowing this isn't going to go well. "It's just that now you two are dating, we don't think..." Cathy scoffs, and he corrects himself, "I don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone with Santana behind any closed doors."

Brittany looks from Jeff to Cathy, and Santana can tell that she doesn't understand.

Cathy pinches the bridge of her nose, looking like this whole situation is causing her nothing but stress. "Brittany, I think what your father is trying to say is he doesn't want you and Santana having sex under his roof."

"Why?" Brittany looks like she's starting to panic at what this will mean for them, and her grip on Santana's hand is so tight she's pretty much cutting off all the circulation.

Cathy walks over to the table and pulls out a chair so she can sit beside her husband. "Yes, Jeff, why is that?"

As she sits though, he stands up. "Can I have a word with you in private?" He storms through into the kitchen, Cathy taking her time in going after him.

As soon as they've gone, Brittany turns to face her. "They can't do this, can they? Isn't it against our civil rights or something for them to try and stop us having sex?"

"I don't know." Santana can only shrug. "But Britt, you breaking my hand right now isn't going to help."

Brittany seems to realise just how much of a death grip she has on Santana's fingers and immediately lets go. "Sorry."

Santana starts rubbing her hand, trying to get some feeling back. "Are we supposed to wait here?"

Brittany is about to say something when she's cut off by Jeff's raised voice filtering through from the kitchen. "Don't do that. Don't try and make out that this is me being homophobic. You know it isn't anything of the sort."

Brittany jumps to her feet and moves through into the hallway. The kitchen door is ajar, and Brittany positions herself against it, clearly wanting to hear the full conversation. Santana hesitates, but quickly gives in and joins her.

"If Brittany had still been dating that Abrams kid, I wouldn't be letting him stay over either. It doesn't matter that Santana's a girl."

Cathy sighs. "But it should matter that Santana's Santana. She's been practically living here since she was a kid, and now all of a sudden you're going to ban her from sleeping in Brittany's room and expect them to be okay with that?"

Jeff seems to be getting more and more exasperated at the conversation goes on. "I'm not saying she can't stay over. I'm just not sure we should be allowing them to share a bed. Isn't that only encouraging them to have sex?"

"I don't think they need any encouragement, Jeff. They're teenagers. They're going to have sex. You're not going to be able to stop them, and I'd rather know where they are, than stay up worrying every night, waiting for Brittany to come home to know they're okay."

"Then we give her a curfew as well. No staying out past ten on a school night."

Brittany's eyes widen, and Santana can tell she's starting to get more upset as this conversation continues. Brittany isn't used to having rules to follow. Neither of them are. They've always been left to do as they pretty much please so this is new territory for them.

"Jeff, whatever we do, I don't want Santana to ever feel unwelcome in this house. You know how often her parents are away, and I don't like the thought of her being alone all the time. Especially as now she doesn't even have her grandmother to keep an eye on her."

Santana could have really done without Cathy reminding her of that right now.

"Then I'll clear out the spare room for her, but I don't think I'm being unreasonable here."

"Wait, you'd clear out the spare room?"

"Let's be honest, it's not like I ever use all that gym equipment that's in there."

"That's not what you said when we agreed to have Rory stay with us. You made him take the basement."

"Well yeah, but he's not family."

Santana edges away from the door, suddenly feeling like she really shouldn't be listening in on this conversation. She stops when she reaches the stairs, and sinks down onto the bottom step.

Brittany glances between her and the kitchen, then follows her, sitting beside her.

Brittany's parent's voices are only hushed whispers now. Santana slips her hand into Brittany's as they sit in silence, waiting for Jeff and Cathy to agree on their fate.

Eventually the door opens. Jeff appears, starts to walk towards the dining room where he left them, but stops when he spots them. He walks over to them, but doesn't speak until Cathy has joined them. "Okay, so I know you're not going to be happy about this, but I think it's time we laid down some ground-rules. For everyone's benefit." When he gets no response from either of them, he continues, "Santana, we're not trying to ban you from this house, but from now on we've agreed it'd be better if you sleep in the spare room. Also whenever the two of you are alone together in a room, especially a room with a bed in it, or a sofa, then we ask that the door remains open at all times."

Brittany takes a deep breath, then slowly lifts her head to meet her dad's gaze. "No."

"Excuse me?" Jeff clearly wasn't expecting that response. Neither was Santana if she's honest.

Brittany only shakes her head. "No. We don't agree to your terms."

Santana turns to face Brittany. "Wait, we don't?"

Brittany pulls her hand away from hers and folds her arms. "No." Now Brittany's the one that looks confused. "Why would we?"

Because they're not exactly being given a choice in the matter? Thankfully Jeff saves Santana from being the one to explain that to her. "Because this isn't optional, Brittany. This is what's going to happen."

"But it's not fair." Brittany tries the Pierce pout, but Santana gets the feeling it won't have any effect on Jeff right now.

"No, it's not fair, but while you're still seventeen and living in this house, I'm asking you to respect my decision." When Brittany doesn't argue with him any further, he walks back into the kitchen.

Brittany looks to Cathy. "Mom..."

"No, don't try even try that one. Your father's made his mind up on this. You'll just have to deal with it I'm afraid." She offers them a shrug then leaves.

Brittany rests her head in her hands. "This sucks."

Santana really can't argue with that.

* * *

><p>Brittany stopped paying attention to the movie about five minutes after it started. She's pretty sure Santana isn't really watching it either, but she's still keeping her eyes fixed on the screen anyway. Though occasionally, Brittany will notice her glance anxiously over to the open bedroom door.<p>

Brittany hates these stupid new rules already. All they're doing is watching a movie in her room, yet Santana is on edge and seems determined to keep as much distance between them as she can. She'd tried sitting in the desk chair at first, but Brittany had pouted until she'd joined her on the bed. However whilst Brittany is sitting propped up against the pillows, Santana is lying the opposite way completely, flat on her stomach, head resting in her hands. She's also lying as far away from Brittany as she possibly can, and is lying dangerously close to the edge of the bed.

Brittany sighs and shifts closer to Santana, who looks back over her shoulder at her, giving her a wary look. Something she's done every time Brittany has moved even slightly. When she seems satisfied that Brittany isn't up to anything, she turns back to the TV.

Santana's right leg keeps twitching, and it's starting to get a little annoying. Brittany isn't sure if it's just a nervous habit she simply hasn't noticed before, or if Santana's having muscle spasms or something. She doubts that her offering to give Santana a massage right now would go down well though. The leg jerks again and Brittany can't stop herself from reaching out and placing her hand on Santana's ankle.

She realises it's a mistake about a second too late, as Santana jerks away from her so violently that she ends up rolling off the bed completely. Santana hits the floor with a thud, followed by a stream of what Brittany guesses are Spanish curse words.

There's footsteps on the stairs, then her father appears in the doorway. He looks down at Santana who's still lying in a heap at the side of the bed, then over to Brittany, and frowns. "Everything okay here?"

Brittany shrugs, not really sure if it is or not with the strange way Santana is acting.

Santana sits up. "Fine, Mr P. We're not doing anything. Just watching a movie."

"Okay." Her father gives her a suspicious look, but does leave.

Santana makes no move to get up off the floor, instead she just glares up at her. "What the hell, Brittany?"

"I'm not even allowed to touch you now?" She doesn't remember that being part of the deal. The only thing her dad had said was no sex, right? And an open door policy. She would definitely have remembered if there had been something about her not even being able to touch Santana's ankle thrown in there.

Santana pulls herself to her feet, but doesn't rejoin her on the bed. Instead she walks over to the desk and throws herself down in the chair. "Since we've been up here, your dad has walked past your room like six times. And your mom twice."

Brittany had noticed they did seem to be making a lot of trips up and down the hallway, but she hadn't thought anything of it until now.

"They don't trust us. And Britt, I don't want to give them any reason to be right to think that, okay?"

"But they didn't say we weren't allowed to touch. Or anything about us kissing, just no sex." This is turning out to be even worse than she'd expected. "We've even left the stupid door open."

Santana rubs at her forehead. "I can't afford to screw this up. Your dad's already giving me those looks."

For once Brittany really doesn't understand what Santana is thinking here. "What looks?"

"Those looks that say, keep your hands off my daughter. It's like he knows if I'm even thinking about touching you, and he just keeps looking at me like he's plotting my death."

"Don't be silly. You're imagining it."

"Am I?" Santana leans forward in the chair. "I don't think I am. Because isn't that what parents are supposed to do? Protect their kids? Stop them from getting involved with the wrong people?"

"But you're not the wrong people. You're Santana." Brittany can see where this is going, and she needs to put a stop to it.

Santana sighs. "Forget it, okay? Just forget it. It doesn't matter."

Brittany slides off the bed and goes to kneel down in front of her. The minute she does though, Santana is on her feet and brushing past her, moving to the other side of the room. Brittany sighs and sits back on her heels. "Why are you freaking out every time I even come near you?"

"I'm not freaking out."

"Santana, if I even look at you, you act like I'm going to jump your bones."

"I don't."

"You do. It's like you don't trust me to be able to keep my hands off you. I am capable of controlling myself around you, you know? You're not that irresistible."

"That's not..." When Santana wraps her arms around herself and stares down at the floor, Brittany starts to realise she might just have said the wrong thing. "Maybe I should just go."

Brittany's being shut out. Again. Santana clearly doesn't want to share with her whatever is going on inside that head of hers and Brittany has no idea if this is one of those times she's allowed to push to find out or not. She decides to play it safe. "Maybe you should."

Santana's head snaps up, eyes wide. Clearly she'd been expecting Brittany to beg her to stay. "Well, okay then."

She makes a move for the door, but as she passes by, Brittany grabs her arm to stop her. She wants to at least give her the chance to explain. "Santana, why are you being like this?"

Santana won't look at her, just instead keeps her eyes on the door. She's biting her bottom lip, her fists clenched. Brittany moves so she's kneeling in front of her once more, placing her hands on her waist, her thumbs dipping under fabric so they can trace patterns over Santana's hipbones. Now Santana looks down at her, her eyes dark and oh, Brittany knows that look. That's Santana's I need to take you right here, right now look. Normally she loves being on the receiving end of that look. It always leads to insanely hot sex, but now they have these insanely stupid new rules, and maybe now she's suddenly realising why Santana didn't want her too close to her. She knows she needs to move her hands away. Maybe not staring into Santana's eyes might be a help as well. But typically her body isn't listening to her. Oh, they're in trouble, really big trouble. Her only hope is that her parents will understand, that they can't really expect them to quit cold turkey.

Her hands are sliding lower without her even telling them to, sliding down underneath Santana's skirt.

There's footsteps on the stairs and it's enough to make them both move. Brittany scrambles to her feet and sits in the chair, Santana sinking down onto the bed. Her dad does slow down as he walks past her room, but he thankfully doesn't stop this time.

Brittany's more worried right now about the fact that Santana seems to be rocking slightly. "Is he like psychic or something? God, he's going to kill me, isn't he? He's going to walk in on us and he's going to kill me."

Brittany slowly climbs to her feet, trying not to spook her. "Santana?"

Santana springs to her feet. "I should go."

This time Brittany doesn't try to stop her. Instead she just walks over to her bed and drops down onto her back. She can't have been lying there for more than a few minutes when there's a knock on her door. She's only slightly thankful to look up to find her mom hovering there. "Has Santana gone home?"

Brittany doesn't bother to answer her.

Her mom enters the room and sits down on the edge of the bed. "Did you two have a fight?"

Brittany nods. "It's all your fault."

Her mom doesn't look surprised to hear that. "What happened?"

"Santana thinks Dad's going to kill her."

Now her mom looks surprised. "What? That's ridiculous. Why would she think that?"

"Because she wants to have sex with me. And he doesn't want her to."

And now her mom looks like she wishes she'd never asked. "Brittany, your father is not planning to murder your girlfriend."

"I know that." Brittany frowns at her. "But Santana doesn't."

"I'm sure she doesn't really think..."

"You don't understand. None of you understand. You don't get how hard it is to stop Santana freaking out over things like this. How hard it is to stop her thinking that she isn't good enough for me. Then you go and tell her you don't want us being together. It isn't right for you to do that to her."

"Brittany Susan Pierce." Brittany flinches a little at her mom's tone and use of her full name. "We have done nothing to suggest we don't want you dating Santana. In fact when have we ever treated that girl as anything other than part of this family? Don't think I don't know that this is just your way of guilting us into letting you do whatever you want all the time."

Brittany stays silent, knowing her mom might just have a point there.

"Look, I'll talk to your dad, and tell him he needs to assure Santana that he isn't plotting her death, but sorry, you need to stick to the rules, kiddo."

Brittany sighs as her mom leaves. She'd have less of a problem with that if the rules didn't suck quite so much.

* * *

><p>Santana's so used to nobody being home that she slams the front door closed without even thinking about it. She's only made it half way up the stairs when her mother appears from the kitchen, a scowl fixed on her face. "Santana?"<p>

Santana stops, she doesn't dare not to. "Hey, Mami." She hopes any conversation will be kept brief, like it usually is.

"Is there a reason you tried to break the front door when entering the house?"

The smart thing to do here is apologise, and make a hasty exit. "It's an ugly ass door. Would it be a real loss if it did happen to get damaged?"

"Okay, what's wrong?"

She'd expected her mother to loose her temper with her, so she's a little thrown by the question. "Nothing."

"Mija, when you start destroying the house, then it would suggest otherwise."

"It's nothing. Just girl trouble."

And now her mother looks a little uncomfortable. "Oh."

"It's nothing." She carries on up the stairs, making a beeline for her room, thankful that her mother doesn't try to stop her. Once inside, she closes the door, without slamming this one. There's no need to attract any more of her mother's attention now she's been able to escape. She throws herself down on her bed, and buries her head in the pillows. "Stupid, so fucking stupid." She wishes she knew just how she's managed to screw everything up like this. One thing. One thing Brittany's parents have ever asked of her, don't have sex with their daughter in their house and she couldn't even go one day without wanting to do just that.

A knock on her bedroom door gets her hopes up for a minute, until she realises that even if Brittany had followed her back here, she would never knock, would just instead barge into her room like always. "What?"

The door opens and her mother hovers in the doorway. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Santana slowly lifts her head up to stare at her mother. "Do I want to talk about it?" She's not sure she understands the question.

Her mother shuffles from one foot to the other. "I just thought that maybe you'd want to talk about it."

"To you?" Santana sits up and frowns.

"Or your father will be home soon if you'd prefer. He might be more help than me on this particular subject."

Santana somehow doubts that. "I'm good, really."

Unfortunately her mother doesn't take that as a hint to leave. "Santana, listen, we've been talking, your father and I, and well, if you feel like you want to see someone, it'd be understandable after everything you've been through. And we'd arrange that, if you wanted."

She doesn't like where this is going. "See someone as in?"

"As in a therapist."

"You think I need therapy?" She can't keep the anger out of her voice, and it's enough to make her mother take a step backwards.

"Not need it, no, but if you wanted someone you could talk all this through with, I'm just saying we'd pay for it."

Santana can only stare at her mother in disbelief. Does she really think she'd ever want to discuss her personal life with a complete stranger?

"Your father thinks you might find it helpful. We've discussed it several times in the past, but I never thought you'd agree to it. Now I just want you to know you have that option available to you."

"Well, gee thanks. It's good to know." Santana's really not sure what else she's supposed to say to finding out her parents think she needs to see a psychiatrist, and possibly have done for some time.

Her mother shakes her head. "I'm trying here, Santana. I am trying. You dumped something this huge on us, then you ran and hid at the Pierces."

"I didn't..."

"Santana, you did. You've made it very clear that you have no interest in discussing any of this with us." Her mother rubs at her forehead. "And are you ever going to tell us what happened with your Abuela? Because all she'll say on the matter is that she has no granddaughter."

That doesn't come as a surprise to Santana, but it still hurts to hear the words said out loud. "There's nothing to say then, is there?"

Her mother sighs. "I guess not."

Santana wishes there was, wishes that she did feel like she could talk to them. It's not like she hasn't tried lately, but every time she works up the nerve to say something, they're always busy, or her mind goes blank on her, leaving her not knowing what to say.

Her mother starts to leave, but then turns back to her. "Just as long as you know, that we are here, if you do ever need to talk to us. About anything. We might not always understand, but we will always listen, Santana."

She doesn't answer her, again not knowing what to say. She's starting to realise that maybe this is her mother's way of making an effort. That maybe it needs to be baby steps if she ever wants some kind of relationship with them. "It's Sectionals this week."

Her mother frowns. "Cheerleading or your choir?"

"Cheerleading sectionals were last month, remember?" Of course her mother doesn't remember, because once again neither of her parents attended. "I thought maybe you'd come this time." Her mother looks guilty and Santana takes that as a no. "It's cool if you don't want to. Not like it's a big deal or anything. It's only sectionals."

"It's not that I don't want to, but we're flying out to Seattle tomorrow. Your father is speaking at a conference on Friday."

It was nice of them to take the time to inform her of their trip this time at least, instead of leaving her a note like usual. "Like I said it's no big deal."

"Okay." Her mother hesitates for a moment, but then leaves, closing the door behind her.

Santana grabs her phone to call Brittany, but stops herself before hitting dial. She's about to put her phone back down, but then instead types out a quick text instead and hits send.

**I love you.**

She crawls under the covers, still clutching her cell. She doesn't have to wait long until it buzzes in response.

**I love you too, Santana.**


	12. Hold On To Sixteen: Part 2

Santana really hates Thursdays. It's the one day of the week where she has no classes with Brittany, so their time together is already limited, and well today? Today Brittany is avoiding her. It's now lunchtime and Santana hasn't yet been able to run into Brittany at all. Therefore she must be avoiding her. It's the only explanation. She's shoving her books back into her locker, rather more violently than she needs to, when Sam suddenly appears at the side of her.

She can't help jumping slightly. "Jesus, Trouty. Have you decided to start stalking me or something?"

"Nope. Just came to tell you that your girl is conspiring with the enemy."

"What are you talking about?"

He pushes off the lockers and starts walking backwards away from her. "You might wanna try looking for her in the rehearsal room."

She slams her locker shut and storms down the hallway. Sure enough she finds Brittany where Sam said she'd be, and sure enough she isn't alone. She's currently being twirled around the room by a laughing Mike Chang.

She can feel Jealous Santana start to take over, but she quickly forces her back inside, locking her inside that cage that lies inside her chest.. She's in enough trouble with Brittany as it is without causing a scene over her dancing with Mike Chang.

She slips inside the room and sinks down against the back wall so she's sitting on the floor.

Mike notices her and immediately looks worried, but he seems to relax when she nods at him. He pulls Brittany back towards him and they slide instantly into a insanely complex routine. Brittany still hasn't noticed her presence, far too focused on every step and turn, and Santana's glad for that. It gives her the chance to just watch Brittany dance, really dance, where she's not dancing for anybody else, just for herself, where she can really let go and just move. And of course, Santana also doesn't mind the chance to admire Brittany's body, nope, not at all.

Once the song ends, and they've finished, Brittany finally spots her. She doesn't say anything though, just folds her arms and stares at her.

Santana guesses that it's going to be up to her to make the first move here. "Guys, that was badass. You two really are fucking awesome."

Mike smiles at the compliment, but Brittany doesn't react, her expression unchanging. Mike seems to pick up on the tension. "Well I need to go...do stuff." He grabs his rucksack and heads towards the door.

Santana shouts after him, "Hey Boy Chang, seriously? Those moves were the shit. Don't suppose there's any chance you want to defect over to the TroubleTones?"

He shakes his head, but he's still smiling. "Sorry. My loyalty lies with New Directions."

"Figured as much. Was worth asking though."

He laughs, then spins his way out of the room.

Santana turns back to Brittany to find she still hasn't moved. "Are you pissed at me?"

"No."

Something tells Santana otherwise. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Now she knows she's definitely in trouble, especially as she's not even really sure what she's apologizing for. "Erm, for being a bitch?"

"You're always a bitch." Brittany walks over to the other side of the room, where she grabs a towel and wipes her face. "You're never usually sorry for that."

"I know, but..."

"Santana, you have nothing to apologize for, okay?" Brittany sighs, keeping her back to Santana. "And I'm not pissed at you. I promise."

"Then if you're not pissed at me, why are you avoiding me?"

Brittany spins around to face her, frowning. "I'm not avoiding you."

"Really? Then funny how this is the first time I've seen you today."

Brittany's looking at her like she's crazy, and Santana starts to wonder if maybe she actually is loosing it. Maybe her mother was onto something with the whole therapy thing. "Santana, I've been busy. Did you forget that I have an entire new number for Sectionals to finish choreographing, and not much time to do it in?" There's no irritation in Brittany's voice, no sign that she's angry that she has to do that just because Santana can't pull herself together enough to sing that stupid Adele song. No, Brittany's voice is calm and even, and Santana knows she's just stating a fact. "I just haven't had time for anything else today."

"You found time to hang out with Mike Chang though." The words are out of Santana's mouth before she even registers what she's saying. So much for keeping Jealous Santana locked away. Seeing the hurt on Brittany's face, she tries to backpedal. "Sorry. I don't even know where the hell that came from. Ignore me, okay? I'm just tired. I didn't sleep much last night." She turns away from Brittany and walks over to the over side of the room. "I kept waking up with this feeling that something was horribly wrong."

She doesn't realise Brittany has moved to stand behind her until she feels her slide her arms around her waist and rest her head on her shoulder. "A feeling that only got worse when you woke up alone?"

Santana leans back against her, placing her hands on top of Brittany's that are currently resting against her stomach. "Yeah." She should have known that Brittany would understand, that she would have felt exactly the same.

Brittany kisses her neck. "Did you then start thinking about me being in your bed? And about all the things I'd do to you if I were?" The kisses move higher as Brittany starts working her way up towards her ear. Santana turns her head, trying to capture Brittany's lips with her own, but Brittany pulls back and stares at her instead, eyes dark. "And did that make you so crazy that you had to touch yourself?"

Santana's not sure what the sound is that escapes her mouth. It's not quite a moan, but she's pretty sure it isn't any language known to man either. Her heart rate has definitely increased, and her breathing has quickened, her chest heaving as she tries to force air into her lungs.

Brittany pulls her closer to her, which only makes Santana acutely aware of the swell of her breasts pressing against her back. "Did you lie there, desperately trying to pretend that it was my fingers inside you? Working you up, slowly but surely?"

Santana can't help her eyes from fluttering closed, her hips rolling forward, annoyed when they only meet air.

When Brittany next speaks, she whispers into Santana's ear, causing a shiver to run through her entire body. "But it wasn't quite enough to get yourself off, was it? So instead you ended up lying there, frustrated and wishing you'd took your girlfriend's side when she'd tried to tell her parents to stuff their stupid no sex rule?"

Santana tries to make sense of Brittany's words through her hazy, aroused state. "What?"

Brittany leans down and kisses her cheek. "I'm just saying, if you wanted the sex, then maybe you shouldn't have taken their side." Santana turns around in Brittany's arms, but can only stare at her blankly until her brain agrees to start functioning again. "Wait, are you trying to use sex to get me to do what you want?"

"Depends." Brittany looks slightly guilty. "Will it work?"

Santana shakes her head, but can't help smiling slightly. "And people say I'm the evil one in this relationship." She wraps her arms around Brittany's neck, and pushes up onto her tiptoes, satisfied when this time Brittany doesn't pull away and she's allowed to kiss her. They don't break apart until oxygen becomes an issue. Santana tries to get her breathing to even out, but she thinks it's going to take more than a kiss to make that happen. "Wanna move this to our favorite janitor's closet?"

When Brittany's hands slide down to grip her ass, Santana takes that as a yes, but then Brittany's eyes seem to clear. "Aren't you supposed to be meeting Mercedes?"

Santana had completely forgotten about that. She had promised to run through the vocals for this new song this lunchtime, but surely Mercedes will understand she has more important things to do, specifically her hot girlfriend.

Brittany's eyes narrow as if knowing exactly what Santana's thinking. "You can't just ditch her, San. That's not cool."

"Neither's you getting me wound up and then not following through."

Brittany presses a quick kiss to her forehead and tightens her arms around her. "Mercedes is our friend and she needs us right now. I think this Sam stuff is really messing with her head, and people messing with her head makes her go a little crazy, remember? Do you really want her going all full out diva on us again? Because if she does, I don't want to be the one sent out to find warm puppies for her, okay? Because I don't have a clue which store you'd go to buy those. And besides I'm totally more a cat person, than a dog person." Brittany tilts her head and stares at her. "Which I think is why I love you so much, because you like totally remind me of a cat sometimes. Or maybe I like cats because they remind me of you. I don't know."

It's funny how often Brittany's ramblings leave Santana not sure if she should be insulted or not. If anybody else ever compared her to a cat, then she'd launch herself at them in true Lima Heights fashion, but when it's Brittany? Well Brittany makes it sound like the best compliment she could ever receive. Santana is really going to kill that damn Trouty Mouth though. She's starting to become convinced that the sole reason he agreed to come back to McKinley is to make her life hell. She breathes out slowly. "Fine, I'll go play with Wheezy, but long as you make it up to me tonight." At least her parents going out of town has some advantages. "Come over to mine after Cheerios practice."

"But your parents..."

"Won't be home." She doesn't say any more, not wanting the discussion she knows Brittany would insist they have about how her parents leaving so soon after her coming out party makes her feel. She leans in again to kiss Brittany, but this time Brittany does stop her, slipping out of her arms and putting some distance between them.

"I don't know, Santana. I mean, don't you think we should talk about what happened last night?"

"No." She doesn't, she really doesn't want to talk about that, doesn't want to deal with anything that happened last night. "There's nothing to talk about. Your dad made it pretty clear that we don't get a choice in the matter, so we just have to deal with it."

"And we're going to deal with it by switching to having sex at your house all the time, instead of at mine?"

It sounds like a good plan to her. If her parents don't care what she gets up to, then why shouldn't she take full advantage of that fact? And a house all to themselves has the added bonus that they can do whatever they want without worrying about anyone walking in on them. And maybe Brittany isn't the only one willing to use sex as a bargaining tool to get what she wants. "Think about it, completely empty house? Maybe I'll even let you do that thing you've been wanting to try."

She doesn't miss the fact that Brittany's eyes trail over the full length of her body. Or how she's biting down on her bottom lip, clearly giving that some consideration. After a moment, Brittany swallows and carefully asks, "Which thing are we talking about?"

Santana almost tells her whichever thing she wants, but remembers just in time how dangerous an answer that would be. She's seen that list Brittany has hidden at the back of her top drawer, that list entitled 'Things I Really Want To Do To Santana' and okay, so maybe there's a couple of things on there that make her more than a little nervous. So instead she simply shrugs. "Come over tonight and you'll find out."

She's fairly sure she's won here, that she's escaped from having to have that particular conversation anytime soon, but then Brittany groans and shakes her head. "No. No, we need to talk first." People might think that Brittany is easily distracted by anything shiny, but unfortunately in Santana's experience she's found that Brittany can be pretty focused when she sets her mind on something. And right now that something is getting her to talk about her feelings. It doesn't help that the thought of finding herself completely at Brittany's mercy only seems to have turned her on even more. It may have been a mistake to start thinking about that damn list.

"Fine, whatever." She knows she won't be allowed to leave this room without at least agreeing to talk, but it'll suit her to delay it at least. "I'll see you in Cheerio's practice, okay?" She starts to leave the room, but Brittany grabs her arm and pulls her back for a searing kiss. She's not sure how long it is before Brittany pulls away, grabs her backpack and skips out of the room, telling her, "I'll see you in practice."

Santana stands there, panting, wondering if Brittany actually has any idea what she's doing to her. Death by sexual frustration is really not how she wants to go.

* * *

><p>Brittany doesn't show at Cheerios practice and that does not go down well with Coach Sylvester. Santana has tried calling Brittany at least six times now and only gets through to her voice mail. If she's honest she's a little worried. She's already bearing the brunt of Coach's anger, being blamed for Brittany not being here, so she risks further wrath by asking if she can go look for her.<p>

"Absolutely not." Coach sneers at her, actually sneers. "Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I'd actually believe you'd come back if you did locate your girlfriend? No, instead I'd be missing two cheerios while you two did things that I really don't appreciate you even making me think about. No, you're going to stay here, and I fully expect you to work twice as hard to make up for Blondie not bothering to show."

It's the practice from hell, and it's not like Santana is a stranger to tough sessions, but Coach really outdoes herself today. The whole squad is reduced to trembling wrecks in record time, and she tries to tell Coach that attempting any kind of pyramid right now is suicide judging by how much the freshmen are shaking, but Coach only tells her not to be ridiculous and that they're going to simply have to get used to this pressure. It's times like this that she's glad that as head cheerleader she gets to stand by Coach and just watch, occasionally getting to yell at the other girls herself, but when she makes the mistake of laughing when the pyramid collapses for the third time, then she knows she's in really big trouble. The next time the pyramid collapses, she's at the top of it.

It gets worse when Becky Jackson dares to blame her for the disastrous routine the squad just messed up. It takes three seniors and four juniors to break up that fight, and Coach looks less than impressed.

Finally it's all over and she's actually looking forward to crawling over to the locker room and passing out in the shower. Unfortunately, Coach has other ideas. "Sandbags? I want you to put all the equipment away." Normally this is the job of the freshmen, and they take the opportunity to make a quick exit. She knows better than to argue and simply does as she's told. To make it even worse, Coach stays with her, lecturing her as she goes. "You know I can't help thinking Brittany has made you soft, Lopez. People used to fear you, but now half the time you're walking around with a dopey grin on your face. I suppose being in love will do that to you, which is why I had myself vaccinated against such things."

She'd been hoping the lecture and having to stay behind to tidy up would have been the end of it, but apparently luck is really not on her side. "Now since I'm in such a good mood today, I'm going to give you the chance to prove I'm wrong, show that you're not going soft." That chance involves her running suicides, which isn't easy when her muscles were already cramping up. It also doesn't help that Becky is standing on the sidelines, shouting out more insults than Coach is. When Santana's finally finished, and is doubled over, struggling to breathe, Becky can't resist twisting the knife. "Coach, I think she should run laps too. Just to make sure she's up to leading your squad."

Santana straightens up and squares up to her. "Now listen here, Mini-Sue..." She doesn't get any further before Coach steps in.

"You know, Becky, I think that's a brilliant idea. Unless of course, Santana here thinks maybe she isn't up to being head cheerleader any more?"

Something that they'd both probably be glad to see happen, so of course she doesn't plan to give them the satisfaction. "How many laps?"

Coach grins at her. "Let's see how many you can handle."

The answer is four. She manages four measly laps before she can't go on, sinking to her knees on the field. It's only when no-one yells at her for this, that she realises that neither Coach or Becky have even stayed to watch. She groans, falling down onto her back and closing her eyes. Maybe she can just sleep right here tonight. It's not like there's anyone to notice if she doesn't go home after all, and not moving from this spot for several hours feels like a pretty good idea. Besides it's not like her body is likely to give her a choice in that matter.

She doesn't even have the energy to jump when she hears Sam's voice all of a sudden. "You know, you don't look too good. I mean like about to throw up all over the place not good."

That's probably because that's exactly how she feels. She opens one eye to find Sam standing over her. "And you're still claiming you aren't stalking me?"

"I'm really not."

"My mistake. Must just be yet another way the universe is trying to screw me over."

He sits down beside her, ending her hope that he's going to leave her alone any time soon. "And why would it be doing that?"

"Because it's got it in for me."

"Is that right? Because from where I'm sitting, you seem to have it pretty good right now."

"Whatever makes you think that?"

He shrugs. "Because you got the girl." Does she though? Or has she managed to screw everything up already? When she doesn't say anything else, he lies down beside her, his hands resting behind his head. "It's kinda nice and quiet out here."

She turns her head to look at him. "Okay, so I know why I've nowhere better to be, but why are you here so late?"

"I'm staying with Rachel, and it's a little weird." When she raises an eyebrow, he adds, "The Berry family likes to sing. A lot. I think I'd have been better taking up Finn's offer to sleep on his sofa."

She almost tells him that he can stay at her house, but she then remembers that her parents will be home at some point, and they might not take kindly to finding some random boy living in their house. Or maybe they would. Maybe they'd think she was sleeping with Sam, that he'd somehow managed to straighten her out. Yeah, he can just continue to live with Berry. They lie in silence for a while, until she works up the nerve to ask him the question that's been bothering her since he showed up. "Why'd you come back here, Trouty? I mean, you'd escaped Lima. I can't imagine why anyone would willingly come back to this dump."

"They asked me to."

"So what, you only came back so you could play the hero? Swoop in to save New Directions from defeat at the hands of the evil TroubleTones?"

He laughs. "Maybe. Or maybe I missed it, missed all you guys. When your family moves around as much as mine, the first thing you learn is that every single town is pretty much the same. It's the people that make the difference."

She almost asks him if he only came back so that he didn't have to work as a stripper any more, but holds back. It's the one thing that she can't seem to bring herself to give him a hard time about. Maybe it's the fact that it still hits a little too close to home seeing as how so many people believe that it's the only job that lies in her future. "So you coming back didn't have anything to do with a certain kick ass diva?"

This time it's him that doesn't answer her. Instead he sits up and stares out across the field. "Have you eaten today?"

"Yeah." She doesn't know what makes her lie.

Something tells her he doesn't believe her though. "Well I'm starving, so come on. I'll take you to go get a burger."

He stands, then holds a hand out to her and she lets him pull her to her feet. "I thought you had like no money, Trouty?"

"I didn't say I was paying." He studies her, sniffing a couple of times. "But you really need to shower first, cause you're kinda gross right now." He points towards the locker rooms. "I'll wait for you at your car."

She would usually have hit him for that, but sadly, he's right. She sighs and starts to make her way across the field.

* * *

><p>"Do you not need to let your parents know you're going to be home late?" Sam knows the answer to that question before he even asks it.<p>

Santana only rolls her eyes at him, then continues to eat her fries. Correction, his fries. She'd finished hers around ten minutes ago and then had promptly reached across the table and stolen his. Seeing as she's paying, he doesn't really feel like he can complain though. Besides they are his second serving, and she's bought him two burgers. Plus onion rings. She didn't spend this much money on him when they were dating. Actually he seems to remember having to pay for every single thing any time they went out. That's probably why after three dates, they always ended up just hanging out in his bedroom instead. He'd figured it would be cheaper, but several of his comic books disappeared during that time. Along with his Batwoman and Renee Montoya Mini-Mates.

She eats another few fries then leans back in her seat and stares across the booth at him.

All of a sudden he's nervous. "What?"

"You need to stay away from Mercedes."

He wants to tell her to mind her own business, but this is Santana Lopez, and he's pretty sure you don't ever tell her that. Not if you value your nuts anyway. Instead he just waits and lets her continue.

"She has a boyfriend, whether you like it or not. So you gots to leave her alone."

"Like you left Brittany alone when she was dating Artie?" He knows he's pushing his luck with that comment, but can't seem to help himself. He's more than a little surprised when she doesn't get even slightly angry.

"That was different."

"How is it different exactly?" He really doesn't see how it is. She was in love with Brittany and stole her back from Artie. Why shouldn't he be allowed to do the same with the girl he loves?

She drops her gaze, keeping her eyes fixed on the food sat in front of her, instead of on him. "Because you're better than me. You're better than to try and steal someone else's girl."

"Well maybe I don't want to be better. Maybe for once I want to be selfish."

Her head snaps up now and he can see the surprise on her face. She slowly shakes her head. "It's not the way to do it. You'll only end up getting hurt."

"How can you know that?"

"Because I nearly lost Britt by making that same mistake. I told her she had to choose between me and Roller-Boy, and she chose him, okay?" She raises her voice slightly and it's enough to make him flinch. "So don't be as stupid as me, and wait it out. Wait for them to break up, and then make your move." She must have finished saying her piece as she now goes back to eating her fries.

He sits, thinking over what she's just said and soon can't stop from laughing.

Santana however doesn't appear to be as amused. "What's so funny?"

"It's just, I never thought I'd be getting advice on women from Santana Lopez."

She scowls at him and when that doesn't stop him from laughing, she throws a fry at his chest.

"Hey."

It's followed quickly by a second, then a third and he has to place his hands in front of him to bat them away. The guy behind the counter is giving them dirty looks and he thinks it might be wise for them to leave before he says anything which will cause Santana to make a scene.

He slides out of the booth. "Come on. Let's get you home."

She follows after him. "Since it's my car, should I not be the one driving you home?"

"Probably." He'd had to drive them here though. She'd thrown her keys at him the minute she'd emerged from the locker room, thankfully looking far more alive than she had done on the field, and had informed him she was far too tired to drive. She still looks drained now, which is why he'd rather take the wheel than risk her crashing into a streetlight. He doesn't push it though, it is her car as she's pointed out. By the time they've made it out to the parking lot though she must have changed her mind as she hands him the keys again. He doesn't say anything, just climbs into the driver's seat.

They've driven maybe three blocks when she leans over to the back seat and grabs her rucksack from where she'd left it earlier, searching through it. Finally she manages to grab her cellphone and settles back in the passenger seat. Out of the corner of his eyes he notices her unlock it, and her eyes widen. "Shit."

She looks worried, and that alone is enough to make him worried. "What?"

She glances up at him briefly, then starts fiddling with her cell. "Ten missed calls, five text messages, and three voice mails from Brittany."

"That's not good." The look she shoots him tells him he might just be stating the obvious there. "You didn't tell her you were out with me? Is she pissed?"

"More freaking out that I'm lying dead somewhere I think." She brings the phone to her ear, checking her voicemails.

"That's really not good."

She sighs, letting the phone drop away from her ear.

"Is everything okay with you guys?" He has no idea what makes him ask, he knows it's a really bad idea. "It's just with Brittany skipping practice..."

"Everything's fine."

He didn't really expect her to say otherwise. He slows the car down, checking for any other traffic on the road, before doing a U-turn.

She twists in her seat to glare at him. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you over to Brittany's house so you can apologize to your girlfriend for upsetting her."

* * *

><p>Sam's never been to Brittany's house so Santana has to give him directions but it doesn't take them long to get there. When they do Santana shows no sign of getting out the car however. He sighs, only just managing to refrain from banging his head against the steering wheel. "Just go in there and tell her you're sorry. Girls like it when you do that. I think."<p>

She doesn't look convinced, but does climb out of the car. He does the same, locks it and hands her back her keys. He glances down the street, realising that he has no idea how to get back to Rachel's from here, or how far a walk it is. Great.

"Wait, hold up."

He stops, letting her catch up to him. She drapes an arm around his shoulders, startling him a little. "What are you doing?" She leans her weight against him, and he has to act quick to keep upright, sliding his arm around her to keep them both on their feet.

"Maybe you'd better come inside with me. Maybe it hurts more than I was letting on. Maybe I need your help to even walk." Her voice is quiet, and she won't look at him.

She was fine earlier, and he's fairly certain there's nothing wrong with her now either, but he learned a long time ago that sometimes it's best to just go along with Santana. To just shut up and do what you're told. He sighs but starts walking them towards the house. He notices she's also suddenly developed a limp and he can't keep from rolling his eyes. By the time they reach the door, Santana has her eyes shut and he's left with no choice but to knock.

The man who answers the door can only be Brittany's father. He looks Sam up and down, frowning.

Sam offers him his best smile. "Erm, is Brittany home?"

It's only then that Mr Pierce seems to notice Santana is currently buried into his side. He raises an eyebrow but otherwise doesn't seem too surprised to see the state she appears to be in. "What happened to her?"

"Coach Sylvester." Sam doesn't think it needs any more explanation than that.

Mr Pierce just shakes his head. "That woman. She runs them into the ground yet these girls still keep going back for more. Don't think I'll ever understand that." He steps outside, walking past Sam. "Brittany's in the garage."

"Okay." Because that's totally normal.

The garage is joined onto the side of the house, and Mr Pierce steps off the porch and walks across the drive. He pulls up the door. "Hey Brittany, you've got company." He leaves the door wide open, then heads back inside the house.

Santana pokes him in the side, and he takes that as a hint to move. Santana is now pretending to be even more of a dead weight in his arms and he's suddenly really regretting getting involved in this. Once he sees inside the garage, he stops dead. "Whoa."

There's none of the usual clutter that normally fills up garages. Instead the inside is basically a dance studio. Three of the walls are made up of mirrors, and other than a sofa in one of the corners, there's nothing else there to get in the way of the dancing. A door to the left leads back to what he assumes is the inside of the house.

Brittany's standing leaning against one of the walls, arms folded. The fact that she's wearing sweats and a tank top tells Sam she must have been working on something, and he wonders if she spends much time hiding in here, if this is her haven for when she needs some time alone. He suddenly feels like he's intruding, like he really shouldn't be here. Probably because that's exactly the way Brittany is looking at him. Until she notices Santana that is. Then her expression softens, eyes filling with worry and she's at her side in seconds. "What happened?"

Santana opens her eyes. "I'm okay. I'm fine." She follows that up with a whimper though, just for good measure.

Brittany helps Sam move her over to the sofa and lie her down on it. Brittany sits down at the end of the sofa and Santana slides forward, rolling onto her side and resting her head in Brittany's lap. Brittany looks up at Sam, clearly expecting an explanation.

He shoves his hands in his pocket, not sure what he's supposed to say. He decides on the truth. "Coach Sylvester kinda pushed them pretty hard after school I think."

Santana shifts closer to Brittany. "Wasn't that bad. Suicides, laps, the usual."

"Was she mad because I didn't go? I didn't mean to not show, I promise. I was practicing in the auditorium and just lost track of time. I'm sorry, San. I didn't know she'd take it out on you." Brittany pushes the hair back out of Santana's face and leans down to press two kisses to her forehead. She glances up at Sam, and he can tell there's more she wants to say but won't as long as he's here.

Santana must notice Brittany is close to tears, as she is suddenly acting more alert at least. "It's okay, Britt. Really, I'm fine."

When Brittany runs a hand over her side, Santana winces and Brittany quickly pulls back. She lifts up Santana's shirt to find her left side is covered in a large angry bruise, which even Sam has to admit looks painful.

Brittany gently reaches out and traces the edges of it with her finger. "Did you like get dropped from the pyramid?"

"No." Santana answers quickly.

Sam thinks it's better Brittany knows the truth just in case of any internal bleeding or anything. "Yeah, she did. Four times."

That earns him a death glare from Santana. "Knew you were stalking me, and why are you even still here, Trouty?"

Maybe because the alternative is to start walking back to Rachel's.

Brittany carefully slides out from under Santana. "I'll be right back." She dashes over to the side door and disappears into the house.

Sam walks over to the far side of the room and takes the chance to fix his hair. He watches Santana's reflection. As soon as Brittany has gone, she sits up a little, resting her head in her hands. He keeps his eyes on the mirror as he speaks. "Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you?"

She looks like she's about to fire off an insult at him, but then instead just settles for, "As usual I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Can't you see she's upset enough without thinking you're seriously injured here?"

She rolls her eyes. "Shouldn't you be getting back to Casa Berry? I'm sure they're missing your dulcet tones in their dinner theater productions. It's probably a nice change for them to have a boy in their house that can actually sing, instead of having to settle for Finn."

Thankfully Brittany is back before Santana can throw any more insults in his direction. She's carrying a bag of frozen peas and several bottles of what Sam guesses are massage oils. Yeah, maybe that's his cue to leave.

Brittany crosses over to the sofa and signals for Santana to roll over onto her stomach. She sits down on the edge of the sofa, then lifts Santana's shirt again and presses the bag of peas to her bruised side. Sam might just take a little satisfaction when Santana hisses and tries to move away. "Jesus, Britt, that's cold."

Brittany simply frowns at her. "Yeah, they're frozen peas."

Santana grumbles a little more but does allow Brittany to hold them against her side.

Sam stays for a few minutes, trying out a few of his best moves on the dance floor. Neither of them are paying him even the slightest attention though, not even when he does his body roll and he decides it's definitely time to leave them to it. "Well, it's getting late. I'll see you two tomorrow." He slides across the floor, then starts to walk towards the door.

Brittany hands Santana the peas and stands up, following him. They walk in silence until they reach the bottom of the path. He stops then, still not having a clue which way he's supposed to go.

Brittany points to the right. "Rachel's house is four blocks that way." She closes her eyes as if trying to recall some information from deep in her brain. "You wanna go left, second right, left, then right again."

"Thanks."

She nods at him, then starts back towards the garage. She stops though and turns back to him. "Thanks, Sam. For looking after her."

He's suddenly hit by guilt, feeling bad for helping Santana deceiving Brittany. "She's faking it. She's not really hurt, just sore I think."

Instead of being angry like he expected, Brittany only smiles and shakes her head. "Well duh."

"You knew?"

"Yeah. She's head-cheerleader. You think she only got that because she's the only one who can be as mean as Coach Sylvester? She got it by being the best, and working her ass off. So you really think Cheerios practice is enough to wear her out? No, she'll be worn out sure, but she's fine."

"But why pretend to be hurt worse than she is?"

Brittany shrugs, but he gets the feeling that she knows exactly why. When he continues to stare at her, she must realise he isn't going to leave without getting an answer and sighs. "You can't tell anyone this, okay? But sometimes she likes it when I fuss over her, when I take care of her. Plus she probably thinks she won't be in trouble with me and that I'll feel sorry for her and we won't have to have a conversation she's been avoiding."

"Is it going to work?"

Brittany only smiles shyly at him and he doesn't know if that's a yes or a no. "Night, Sam." He watches as she makes her way back down the driveway. She closes the garage door behind her and he's left alone. He doesn't ever think he'll understand those two or their relationship. Now if he can just remember those directions Brittany gave him.

* * *

><p>Brittany must have spent a little too long walking Sam out, because by the time she returns to the garage, Santana has fallen asleep. She can't help smiling a little though when she sees that Santana did at least manage to remove both her jacket and her shirt, and arrange the oils on the floor before doing so. She shakes her head, a little disappointed herself that she won't be giving Santana that massage. She grabs the blanket that rests over the back of the sofa and covers Santana with it. She kneels down, and presses her lips to the top of Santana's head.<p>

She can't help feeling more than a little guilty. She really hadn't meant to forget about practice. It's just that she had skipped her last period and gone to the auditorium to try to sort out the last missing piece of this number for Sectionals. Everyone's counting on her, and yet she can't seem to figure out the last part. It's not been easy coming up with what she has so far. It needs to be awesome, but yet it needs to be something the rest of the group can learn in time. She knows Santana and the other cheerios will be fine with it, but Mercedes and Sugar might be another story. She guesses she must have gotten too caught up in her dancing as the next thing she knew it was hours later and she'd had several missed calls from Santana. She'd tried calling her back straight away and then had panicked when she got no answer, worried that Santana was mad at her, or worse, that Santana thought Brittany was mad at her.

She'd even gone over to Santana's house, letting herself in to only find it empty. She hadn't missed the money sat on the kitchen counter, or the contact numbers for a hotel in Seattle that was pinned to the refrigerator. That had only left her wondering why Santana hadn't told her that her parents were out of town.

She kisses Santana again, then climbs to her feet. She moves over to the other side of the room. She stares at herself in the mirror, and takes a deep breath. It's bothering her that she can't quite get this routine down like she wants to. She's tried it so many times today, that she doesn't even need the music any more. It's already playing non-stop in her head. She only wishes she knew why it wasn't working.

She's working through it again when the door to the house opens. She keeps moving, though her eyes move over to where her dad is leaning in the doorway. "Santana okay?"

"Yeah."

He nods, but doesn't leave.

He's putting her off, so she rather ungracefully pulls out of a turn and scowls at him. "Are you going to make her go home?"

He sighs. "No, Brittany. I never said she couldn't stay over. Why is everybody treating me like the bad guy here?"

She wants to say it's because he is, but that might not be the best idea she's ever had.

"You're upset. Your mom isn't speaking to me because she thinks I'm over-reacting. And apparently Santana thinks I'm plotting her death? All because I try to set some sort of rules for my teenage daughter to follow?"

She stares down at the floor, showing no signs she's listening to him.

"You know what, forget it. You want to be treated like an adult, then fine. Do whatever you want. You probably were planning on already doing just that anyway." He walks back into the kitchen.

She's turned her attention back onto her mirror image and starts the routine over when she notices Santana stirring. She keeps dancing. Santana manages to sit up, but her movements are stiff and awkward. There's that guilt again. That this is Brittany's fault. She should have known that Coach Sylvester would have taken her absence out on Santana. Santana shifts slightly, frowning as she picks up the bag of frozen peas from behind her back and frowns at it. She drops it to the floor at the side of the sofa, then fixes her attention on Brittany.

Brittany's keeps her eyes on Santana's reflection, finding it easier than to face her right now. Finally, Brittany manages to ask, "Can we talk now?" She slows her movements but doesn't yet stop dancing completely.

Santana looks like that's the last thing she wants to do. "What do you want to talk about, Brittany?"

"Last night. I don't get why you were acting so weird."

"I wasn't acting weird. I was trying to respect your parents' wishes and not have sex with you. But you weren't making it easy." Santana seems to suddenly realise she's sitting there topless except for her brr, and she searches for her shirt. As soon as she finds it she pulls it over her head quickly.

"But I wasn't doing anything." Brittany spins around now. "And it kinda hurt that you didn't seem to trust me to not try and have sex with you."

"That's not..." Santana groans, resting her head back against the sofa. "Don't you get it? It's not you I don't trust. It's me."

Now Brittany's even more confused. Maybe talking about this wasn't a good idea after all. "San, you need to explain, because I don't understand what you're..."

"Why don't you get it? You always just get it." It's almost like Santana isn't even really talking to her, her eyes are fixed on the ceiling, and Brittany wonders if maybe she's talking to God, but then she remembers that Santana doesn't do that any more.

Brittany waits for Santana to explain, but it doesn't happen. Santana is muttering under her breath, but the few words Brittany can make out seem to be Spanish. Brittany gives up on getting any kind of real answer to her question, so turns back around, once again starting to move across the floor. Santana's mumbling eventually stops, leaving them in silence, but sadly it's not that comfortable silence they normally enjoy, and Brittany feels a sudden need to break it. "When you weren't answering your phone earlier, I went over to your house to look for you."

Santana lifts her head up. "Is that right?"

"Yep."

The silence takes over again, but it isn't long until Santana speaks again. "Hey, Britt?"

"Yeah?"

"I told you that my parents are going to be out of town for the rest of the week, right?"

She wonders if Santana really thinks she's going to let her off the hook that easily. "So when you asked me over to yours tonight, was that because they've gone away and you wanted to have sex, or was it because they've gone away and you didn't want to be alone?"

Santana sits forward and studies her, as if trying to judge which is the right answer here. "Maybe a little of both?" When Brittany doesn't react, she shrugs. "Okay, so it may have mostly been the sex thing."

"This is what I don't understand. You're acting like it's the end of the world because we can't have sex all the time now, but yet you took my parents' side and agreed to these rules."

"I didn't take anyone's side. What did you expect me to do? Start a fight with them? Brittany, in what universe is me yelling at your parents a good idea?"

Brittany thinks that over, before finally deciding, "Probably in Bizarro World. Isn't everything like the total opposite there?"

Santana doesn't seem impressed by her answer. "Believe me, I hate it as much as you do. Being in the same room as you, wanting you so badly and not being able to do anything about it? God, it's seriously messing with my head. Why do you think I bailed on you last night? I knew if I didn't, then I wouldn't be able to resist you, and I knew once I started touching you, I wouldn't be able to stop, and then we'd be having sex and your dad would walk in on us, which awkward, on so many levels."

Brittany shudders at the thought. "Yeah, that would not be cool."

"But they're your parents, and I kinda have to respect their decision because they're just doing what they think is best for you. They're just showing that they care about you, and that's kinda awesome. Do you know what I'd give to know mine actually give a shit about me?" Santana leans forward and rests her head in her hands, staring down at the floor. "Instead they just think I'm batshit crazy."

"Santana, I'm sure they don't..."

Santana jumps to her feet and starts pacing. "No, they do. Do you know how I know? Because last night my mother told me that they do. She told me that they think I need to see a shrink. Oh and apparently it's not the first time they've thought about putting me in therapy. So yeah, they think I'm nuts. That I should be locked up in a padded cell and..."

"Hey." Brittany moves over to her, placing her hands on her arms to still her. "Listen to me. You are not crazy, so stop, okay?" She lifts Santana's chin to get her to look at her. "You're not crazy."

"I'm not so sure about that." Santana exhales slowly. "Sometimes you make me feel like I'm going crazy."

Brittany hesitates before asking, "But in a good way, right?" She's not sure if she can handle it if the answer is no.

"I'm not sure yet."

Not the answer Brittany was hoping for, but she'll take it. She slides her arms around Santana's back and pulls her into a hug. She quickly lets go though when Santana flinches. "Come on." She takes hold of Santana's hands and leads her over to the sofa. She sinks down onto it, pulling Santana with her. Soon Santana is curled into her side, her head resting on her chest.

They fall into silence again, but this time it feels more like it's supposed to. She's starting to think Santana has fallen asleep, but then she shifts slightly, pulling back enough so she can look up at Brittany. "Hey, Britt?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to dance with you."

"Now? You sure you're up to it? Because you kinda look like you might pass out at any minute."

"No, not now." She sees the hesitation, then Santana continues, "At Sectionals. I want to dance with you at Sectionals."

"But we are dancing at Sectionals. That's kinda the TroubleTones thing, remember? The kickass dancing."

Santana's studying her like she's trying to work out if Brittany is simply pretending to misunderstand her, or if she really doesn't get it. It's very rare that she gets that look from Santana. Other people sure, but Santana normally can always tell if she's trying to make a joke or being serious. Apparently not tonight though. "I know that, but I want to dance _with you_."

She's not sure why Santana seems to think that just repeating the same words is going to suddenly make her understand.

Santana must realise that as she sighs, then tries again. "You asked me last year to dance with you, to get up on that stage and show everyone who I really was and I couldn't do it. And I know that everyone knows now, but I want to get up there and dance with you. I mean really dance with you. Like you were dancing with Boy Chang today. Well maybe not exactly like that, because I can't keep up with you like he can, but something similar, you know? Something a couple would dance together to."

"You'd do that?" When Santana nods, Brittany can't resist kissing her. She keeps it fairly tame though, still not sure where they stand on the whole sex thing right now. She knew there had to be a reason that she hadn't been able to finish their Sectionals number. Now she knows why her mind wasn't letting her come up with the last piece of the puzzle. Her brain now feels like it's working overtime trying to think of something awesome they can do, and it doesn't take long for it to think of it. She grins. "What do you think about the tango?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Huge thanks to anyone who is still bothering to read this fic, especially those who took the time to review. I know it seems to keep taking me ages to update, but life keeps getting in the way at the moment.**

**I know I might have lost a few readers with having Brittany's parents trying to enforce a no sex in the house rule, but I just couldn't see Brittany's dad being okay with not doing so. Even if he is the only one who thinks it's the right thing to do.**

**Also I apologise for the large amount of Sam in this chapter. He always just seems to have a way of forcing his way into my fics. What can I say, I have a soft spot for Sammy Evans. If I had to pick one of the Glee boys to be my lesbro, I'd definitely choose Sam.**


	13. Hold On To Sixteen: Part 3

It takes Santana a good few seconds to figure out why her body aches so much when she first wakes up. Then she remembers that damn Cheerios practice and curses Coach Sylvester's name several times. Silently of course, just in case there's any of her listening devices planted in Brittany's garage, because you never really can be sure with Coach.

It takes another minute for her to figure out why she appears to lying on the sofa in Brittany's garage, pretty much draped over a snoring Brittany. A blanket has been thrown over them at some point, and judging by the fact that she doubts Brittany would have been able to move with Santana's weight pinning her to the sofa like it is, then she gets the feeling they might just be in a little bit of trouble here.

She doesn't have a clue what time it is, but her body-clock is telling her it's far too early to be awake, and that she should put her head back down and go back to sleep. However the rest of her body seems to disagree and is wanting her to move and stretch her muscles instead. She somehow manages to disentangled her limbs from Brittany's and slides to her feet.

As expected Brittany doesn't wake. Santana carefully replaces the blanket over her, stopping to place a soft kiss to her forehead, then heads towards the house. She needs a shower and some clean clothes, but she doesn't want to disturb the rest of the Pierces this early by traipsing upstairs. However she also can't bring herself to sneak off without letting Brittany know she's leaving. So her plan is to hunt down some post-it notes or something and leave one for Brittany to tell her she had to go home but will be back to pick her up for school.

Unfortunately she steps into the kitchen to find Jeff leaning against the breakfast bar, cup of coffee cradled in his hands. She stops dead and slowly starts to back up, but it's too late he's seen her. "Morning, Santana. Sleep well?"

"Nothing happened last night." Santana folds her arms, staying exactly where she is in the doorway. "We fell asleep. That's all."

"Sure." He grabs a mug from the cupboard and fills it with coffee, then places it on her side of the counter. "Why don't you take a seat? I think you and I need to have a little chat, don't you?" Jeff gestures for her to join him at the breakfast bar.

Santana doesn't move, though her eyes dart to the open door behind her. It'd be perfectly understandable if she made a run for it, wouldn't it? If she's quick, she might even have time to stop to grab her jacket from where she thinks she left it on the garage floor. Doing so will mean she'll have her car keys that are in the pocket, and then she won't even have to walk home.

Or then again fleeing in terror from her girlfriend's father is possibly not the smart play here. It certainly wouldn't do anything for her badass image.

Jeff is watching her carefully. "The coffee isn't poisoned if that's what you're worried about."

It wasn't, not until he put the idea into her head anyway, now she might just be a little suspicious.

Jeff must notice her hesitation as he sighs. "Look, I don't know where this insane idea that I'm planning your death came from, but honestly, I'm not."

Santana still stays in the doorway. Something tells her that even if that might be true, she's about to get some sort of variation on the protective father speech, and she really doesn't know how she's supposed to react to that.

He once again points at one of the stools. "Come on, I just want to talk. Please?"

She shrugs but does as he asks, sitting down across from him.

"I'm sorry if I haven't handled this whole no sleepovers thing very well." That really isn't what she was expecting him to say. "I should have taken the time to explain why I felt the need to start laying down the law, when it was never an issue before."

Santana gets the feeling that this is going to be even more awkward than she was expecting. Maybe if she starts talking before him then he'll change his mind about needing to have this conversation with her. "Listen, Mr P. I get it, I do. I get that you're not happy about me dating Brittany. I know you must think I'm a bad influence on her. God knows everybody else does, but..."

He cuts her off before she can get any further. "Santana, in all the years I've known you, I have never once thought that."

"Really?" She's not sure how that's possible. "Not even that time I got her arrested?"

"Meh. You guys stole a car. We've all been there."

"Borrowed, we borrowed a car." She feels the need to make that distinction.

"And besides I always got the impression the whole thing was Brittany's idea anyway, am I right?"

She thinks she's safer not answering that, there's no need to get Brittany into any trouble here.

"In fact, I'm pretty sure my daughter was responsible for ninety-five percent of the stupid stunts you two have pulled over the years."

She'd have said eighty percent. After-all she has had her own fair share of crazy ideas. Brittany is just better at talking her out of things than she is at saying no to anything Brittany's brain might conjure up.

"Santana, this all has nothing to do with you. It isn't personal. I'd be the same with anyone Brittany was dating."

"Okay." Santana doesn't see how that changes anything.

"Now I'm not naive. I know that you and Brittany..." He trails off, and just gestures with his hand.

She frowns. "Have sex?" She suddenly wishes she'd run when she'd had the chance, as this conversation seems like it's about to become a whole different level of uncomfortable.

"Yeah, that." He winces. "But I don't know any details, and I really want to keep it that way."

She'd be quite happy keeping it that way too.

"It's just something tells me that letting you two do as you please in this house, well that isn't likely to last for long. Do you know what it's like to be terrified any time you walk into a room in your own home about what you might walk in on?"

She's not sure if she should be offended that he seems to think that her and Brittany are sex-crazed or something, but well, they do have a lot of sex. She figures she should at least try to defend them though. "It's not like we..."

He holds a hand up to stop her. "Now please don't actually answer this question, but the other day when we came home and you two were on the sofa, where were Brittany's hands?"

Well he might just have a point there. She quickly drops her gaze, staring into her coffee mug rather than look at him.

"And I've got Ashley to think about. She isn't dating yet, but what happens when she starts? What ever we let Brittany do, we're going to have to let her do too, and that's several years of arguments that I really could do without."

He's rambling and Santana is finding it hard to follow his train of thought. Now she knows where Brittany picked up the habit at least. She doesn't dare interrupt him though, even to ask him to slow down.

"And Cathy seems to think Ashley will understand that it's different because you and Brittany are in love, but Brittany claimed to love that Abrams boy and we all know how that turned out."

She flinches at the mention of Artie's name. She likes to pretend that nothing ever happened between him and Brittany, and really isn't keen on anybody reminding her otherwise. "Mr P, really, I get it. This is your house, your rules, and I'm down with that. You don't owe me an explanation."

"No, but I just wanted to make sure you understood. I don't want you thinking you've done anything wrong. Or that we don't approve of you and Brittany. Because we do. Santana, I know I don't ever have to worry about you not treating Brittany right. I know you love her, and I know you respect her, and I would never want to come between you two."

Santana nods. "But you don't want us getting it on under your roof."

Jeff sighs. "That makes me really old-fashioned, doesn't it?"

Santana shrugs. "Maybe a little. But look, how about a compromise?"

He lifts his head. "What kind of compromise?"

She's not really sure. She's winging it seeing as she has no idea what's standard operating procedure for this kind of situation. "How about for a start, if anyone else is home, then we keep all activities strictly PG-13 rated?"

"And you really think Brittany will be able to keep to that?"

"Yeah, sure." Santana hopes he doesn't notice she has her fingers crossed, but it's worth a try to get Brittany to stick to it. "But on the other side, how about if I'm allowed to sleep in Britt's room and we're allowed the door closed? But you trust us to stick to the rules."

"You want us to do this on the honor system?"

"Yeah. I'm asking you to give us a chance to prove we can behave."

He studies her, as if trying to figure something out. "Why is this such a big deal? You two sharing a bed?"

She considers lying to him, saying that it isn't, but she knows that won't get her anywhere. "Because it feels wrong not to wake up next to her, you know?"

"See, it's things like that make me worry a little. About both of you. The fact that the idea of spending even one night apart caused all this upset? She's only seventeen, yet the way she looks at you sometimes, it scares me."

It scares her too, most of the time. Then there's those times when it only makes her feel invincible, like she can do anything as long as Brittany believes in her, loves her.

"I'm just wondering, what's the plan, Santana? For after you graduate? You're going to go off to college, and Brittany..." He sighs. "Well, I don't know what Brittany's wanting to do, because every time I try to talk to her about the future, she just shrugs and says she doesn't know yet."

Santana thinks both her and Brittany have been avoiding that particular conversation. If she's honest she doesn't have a clue what she wants to do next year. Get out of Lima with Brittany. That had been her entire plan up until now. There's a box at the back of her wardrobe that was going to be her way of making sure that happened. But now? Now she still can't quite let herself think that she might actually have other options. That's why that box is staying exactly where it is. "I'm not going to just leave her behind, I would never do that."

"And maybe that's exactly the kind of thing that worries me. You're both so young. And I know you love her. I know she loves you. But I don't want either of you to throw away your future for the other. I care too much about both of you to see that happen."

Once again she's hit with the fact that the Pierces seem to care more about her than her own parents. As if the fact that they will be sitting in that audience at Sectionals tonight, while her parents have more important places to be wasn't enough of a reminder.

Jeff's watching her reaction carefully, a worried expression on his face that tells her he really doesn't want to be having this discussion anymore than she does. "I just need to know that there is a plan. That you've thought about what exactly it is you want out of life, and whether it's the same things that Brittany wants."

"What, you want to know what my intentions are towards your daughter?" She can't help raising an eyebrow.

"And now you're mocking me." He throws a hand up in the air, and sighs. "Is it really so wrong to worry about my daughter getting hurt?"

"No, it's not." Santana can't help thinking he's probably quite justified in thinking that, going off her track record and how many times Brittany's cried over her in the past. "Look, I can't promise you that I'll never hurt her. We're gonna have fights, and in case you hadn't noticed, I'm kind of a bitch most of the time. But I don't ever plan on breaking her heart if that's what you're asking, and I'm always gonna love her. I don't think I know how not to be in love with her. And the future? How about when we figure it out, you'll be the first to know?" She really isn't able to promise him any more than that right now.

"So you've talked about it at least?"

"No, not really." It doesn't mean she hasn't thought about it though. She's been thinking about it a lot lately, and she gets the feeling Brittany has too. "I mean Britt told my dad we're going to have babies one day but..."

Jeff promptly chokes on his coffee. Maybe sharing that information with him hadn't been the best of ideas. He has to cough several times before he can speak again, and even then it's only a strangled, "What?"

Santana shrugs. "Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction."

He shakes his head. "You know, Cathy said to me that I shouldn't worry about you two sleeping together because at least you couldn't get her pregnant. But now you tell me you're already talking about kids?"

"Brittany is. Not me."

"You don't want children?"

She doesn't even have a clue how to answer that question, so she simply shrugs. "I just think I'd really suck at the whole parenting thing." That turns out to a conversation killer. She really should have known mentioning children wouldn't exactly help her in these negotiations.

They sit in silence, Jeff clearly thinking things over. Eventually, he nods. "Okay. You have a deal. I'll agree to your terms. On a trial basis. Let's see how it works out. I'll talk to Brittany about it when she eventually wakes up."

Santana offers him a small smile. "Thanks, Mr P." She slides off the stool, eager to get out of here before he changes his mind. "I need to be going. Will you tell Britt I had to stop off at home and I'll be back to pick her up for school?"

He nods and she bolts for the garage door before he can think of anything he might want to discuss with her. She only makes it two steps before he calls after her though. "Santana? As much as I really don't want to be encouraging you to even think about settling down and starting a family anytime soon, I think you're wrong. I think you'd be a pretty damn good mother." He frowns. "Someday. Years and years from now. I'm far too young to be a grandad anytime soon. Are we clear?"

He might have meant that to be comforting, but it only makes her more desperate to leave. She's in the garage and picked up her jacket before he can say anything else, and then bolts for the door. She thinks that when she comes back to pick Brittany up, it might just be safer for her to stay in the car and honk.

* * *

><p>The Trouble Tones are going to lose. Thirty seconds into New Directions performance of ABC and Brittany just knows that the Trouble Tones are going to lose. For the first time ever, New Directions are working as a group. The lack of Rachel seems to have forced them to not build a set-list around one particular person for once, and it works. Sure some of the members might be more shuffling on the spot than actually dancing, but it doesn't matter because there's Mike, and Mike is pulling focus. Nobody would even notice that Finn is half a beat off as usual, not unless like her they were looking for it.<p>

Mike is awesome. Not that she ever thought for a second that he wouldn't be, but he's really on fire up there. He'd been so nervous, stressing over this routine. Not about the dancing. Dancing is as easy as breathing for him, just like it is for her, but this is the first time he's sung in a competition and being Mike, he'd worried. He didn't need to though, he nails it.

It continues as Artie and Blaine tear their way through Control, and grudgingly she has to admit that even Finn sounds pretty decent on Man In The Mirror. They're like a completely different group up there. Whether it's the absence of Rachel, or the addition of Sam, she doesn't know. All she knows is the Trouble Tones are going to lose.

It still hurts though when the announcement comes.

As a rule Brittany likes competition about as much as she likes any conflict, not very much at all. She's never felt the buzz from the adrenalin like other people seem to do. She's never had that edge, that burning desire to win, to prove she's the best at something. She dances because she loves it. It's that simple for her.

Santana though? Santana cares. Santana feels she constantly needs to prove herself to everyone around her. And when she loses, that's when those little demons that live in Santana's chest start to eat at her insides, start whispering that she's not good enough, and it always takes days for Brittany to repair the damage.

That's why she sticks close to Santana as they make their way back stage after it's all over. That's why as soon as they're all piled into the rehearsal room, that's kind of become their base of operations over the past couple of months, she moves to stand behind Santana, wrapping her arms around her waist, resting her chin on her shoulder and whispers, "I love you."

She feels Santana relax back into her embrace. "Love you too, Britt. Always."

Sugar stomps past them and sinks down onto the floor. "How did we lose? We were supposed to win. Wasn't that the whole point? That's why Daddy paid for Ms Corcoran. She's supposed to be the best, so we should have won."

Mercedes is sitting at the piano, head in her hands. "Guess they were just better."

Santana shakes her head. "No way. It was those damn judges. They totally screwed us over. I'm pretty sure that evil clown judge was high. Though I can't really blame him. I think I'd have to be on drugs to judge one of these stupid competitions." And there it is, right on cue. Santana pretending that she doesn't care about Sectionals, like she never really wanted to win anyway. Brittany can feel her body tense up against her own, always the first sign that Santana is about to go into rant mode. She tries to pull out of Brittany's arms, but Brittany doesn't let her, instead she tightens her grip.

Santana manages to twist in her arms, an annoyed expression on her face, her eyes clearly asking why Brittany won't seem to let go of her.

Brittany doesn't know what makes her kiss her then, right there with the rest of the Trouble Tones all in the room. Brittany's not even sure if she's allowed to kiss Santana in public, though Santana has never said she's not. She can't remember the last time they did though. She thinks it might have been Sophomore year, back when they still used to make out in front of boys. She feels Santana freeze against her, can feel the panic flowing off her in waves, and she's about to pull away, but then she feels Santana respond, an arm wrap around her neck to pull her closer.

They don't kiss for long, and it isn't even particularly heated, there's not even any tongue. Well maybe a little tongue. When they break apart, Santana's eyes are squeezed shut as if she's acutely aware that they have an audience and doesn't dare see their reactions.

She doesn't have anything to worry about though. The Cheerios are pretending to not even have noticed. Mercedes is just shaking her head, a smile on her lips.

And Sugar? Well Sugar's grinning at them, in a way that Brittany thinks is actually a little weird. "Awwwww. They're so cute."

Instantly, Santana's eyes are open and she gives Sugar her best death glare, which is enough to cause Sugar to scramble to her feet and scurry to the other side of the room and out the door. "Damn right, you'd better run, girl." She turns back to Brittany. "Did you hear her? Cute? Cute? We're hot is what we are. Not cute."

Mercedes dares laugh. "I dunno. As wrong as it seems to ever call Satan cute, I think she's right. Adorable is another word that springs to mind."

Santana actually looks devastated to hear that, her face scrunching up in disgust. "God, we're turning into one of those couples, aren't we? So sickeningly sweet that they annoy the hell out of everyone."

Brittany grins. "Yep." She doesn't see how that can be a bad thing. she's about to risk kissing Santana again, if only because she knows it'll at least knock the scowl off her face. It also seems to be pretty effective at making her forget about the whole losing part of the evening. Before she can though, a small blonde blur barrels into them, arms wrapping around the pair of them. Brittany's not sure how they manage to stay on their feet. Her sister always was a bit of a cockblock and even if she never does it on purpose, it still sometimes annoys Brittany.

Ashley hugs them both. "You guys were amazing. So very awesome. It's so wrong that you didn't win."

Santana's face falls. So much for trying to make her forget. "Thanks, Ash." Much to Brittany's annoyance, Santana actually lets go of her to hug Ashley instead.

Brittany folds her arms and frowns at her sister. "Who even let you back here?" She gets her answer when her parents breeze into the room.

She immediately finds herself being hugged by her mom. "You both were fantastic tonight." Her mom lets go of her and moves to hug Santana, while Brittany finds herself engulfed in her dad's arms.

"I know I'm biased, but you definitely should have won." Her dad keeps hold until she protests, then he moves away. At some point during the hugs, Santana has edged away from them, and is now standing at the other side of the room, talking to Mercedes. When Brittany catches her eye and frowns, Santana quickly looks away. Brittany glances at her dad to find he's keeping his eyes on the floor, looking guilty about something. She wonders if this is all still about his stupid rules, or if something else is going on here. She'll ask Santana later. Or try to anyway.

Her mom must notice something isn't quite right as she coughs to get everyone's attention. "Anyway, we just wanted to tell you how amazing you were, and to see if you needed a ride home?"

Brittany isn't sure now. She had been planning on leaving with Santana, but suddenly feels like she's been abandoned to her family's clutches. She doesn't want to go with them though, not until she knows Santana is okay. "I'm good. Santana will drop me off at home."

Her mom just nods, then rests an arm around Ashley's shoulders to lead her towards the door. "Then we'll see you back at the house."

Her dad hesitates for a second, as if he's going to say something, then instead he simply trails after her mom and Ashley. As soon as they're gone, Santana is once more back at her side. Brittany tilts her head to study her. "What was that about?"

Santana shrugs. "Thought you might want a moment with your family." There's an edge to Santana's voice, a slight hint of bitterness.

Brittany can't shake the feeling that she's being shut out here. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Before Brittany can push the issue, Santana's eyes narrow and she's moving towards the door. "Wait here, yeah?"

Brittany ignores her, instead is only a step behind Santana as she marches out into the hallway. Mercedes shoots them a worried look as they leave, but doesn't follow.

Quinn and Tina must have just walked past the doorway, as they're a short distance away, laughing and joking, clearly high after their win. Brittany has a sudden bad feeling about this.

Santana stops in the middle of the hallway and shouts after them, "Hey, Fabray."

Both Quinn and Tina stop and turn to look at them. Santana stays where she is, arms folded, face fixed into a scowl.

Quinn sighs. "Tina, I'll catch up, okay."

Tina looks like she doesn't know whether to leave Quinn alone with them or not, but eventually she makes herself scarce.

Quinn walks over to join them, offering them a smile. "You were good tonight. Really good. It was a shame that there had to be a winner." Brittany as usual can't tell if Quinn means it or not.

Either way Santana doesn't seem impressed. "Save it, Q. Are you gonna tell me what the hell's going on?"

Quinn stands her ground. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh please. _Puck's going to come through for us? He's such a shining star_?" Santana takes a step forward so she's standing right in front of Quinn, and Brittany worries that she might once more need to break up a fight between the two of them. "What did you do, huh? Because I know you did something. You've been walking around acting all Single White Female for a while now. Which while it's been a nice change from Punk Quinn, or Stepford Quinn, it's starting to get a little creepy."

Brittany agrees with Santana there, but decides to stay quiet. She's always tried to avoid taking sides in any Unholy Trinity fights, but when pressed she's never not going to choose Santana.

Quinn only sighs. "Relax, S. I didn't do anything. You don't need to worry. Rachel already talked some sense into me."

"Rachel did?" Santana lets out a hollow laugh. "Okay, now I know you've seriously lost the plot if you're taking advise from the hobbit."

Brittany's completely lost here, and neither of them seem like they'd be willing to take the time to explain it to her.

Quinn smiles, which if anything only freaks Brittany out even more. "I actually think I finally might just have found the plot." She starts walking away from them. "I'll see you two on Monday. Enjoy your weekend." She stops and turns back to them. "I meant it, you know? You were awesome tonight. All you Trouble Tones were."

Then she's gone, leaving Brittany alone with Santana once more. "San, what was that all about?"

Santana face softens as she turns her attention back to Brittany. "I don't know, B. Something. Something's happened. I don't know." Santana still looks worried, and maybe slightly angry. "Hey, have you seen Ms Corcoran since the results?"

"No."

Santana shrugs, clearly trying to pretend that everything's okay. "It's probably nothing."

Brittany slips her hand into Santana's. "Want to go see if we can find her?"

Santana bites her bottom lip for a moment, then nods. "Yeah, I think we should."

* * *

><p>Shelby had planned to sneak away without anybody noticing. The Trouble Tones had all looked so crushed after their defeat that she really hadn't wanted to add to their misery. And while New Directions are busy celebrating their victory, then that gives her the chance to go before Puck and Quinn caught on.<p>

What she didn't count on was Santana Lopez cornering her as she's packing up the things in her office that she really can't bare to leave behind.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Shelby looks up to find Santana standing in the doorway, arms folded. Brittany is hovering behind her, her eyes are fixed on the floor however.

Seeing as she's currently placing various items into a cardboard box, she can't very well deny it. She sighs and drops the box down on top of her desk. "I have to. It was a mistake coming back here. A huge mistake."

Santana's eyes flash with anger. "Were you even gonna tell us you were going?" Her silence must give Santana her answer as her eyes narrow. "You do realise that they'll think it's all their fault? The Trouble Tones. They lost tonight, and you up and bail on them? They'll think it's because they let you down."

Shelby pulls open one of the drawers and starts emptying the contents into her box. "And what do you think?"

"I think you screwed up. I don't know what you did exactly, but you've clearly pissed Quinn off, so I'm guessing it involves Puck and Beth in some way."

"Is that right?" Just how many people has Puck opened his big mouth to and told about their, well whatever it was.

Santana shrugs. "Yeah, I think it is."

"Maybe you're right." She can't exactly deny it. She should have stopped things with Puck before it even get close to going so far. There's always a chance that Quinn won't go to Principle Figgins, but the threat will always be there. She'd have to spend every day worrying that if she upsets Quinn again, then they'll be back here again. No, it's better if she leaves. It might be what all three of them need to move on.

"You really don't give a shit, do you?"

She should pull Santana for her attitude, but she just doesn't have the energy, and maybe part of her knows it's justified anyway.

Santana takes a few steps towards her. "You show up out of the blue, mess with Quinn's head by bringing her kid back into her life when she never asked you to, and now, what? You're gonna skip town and take the brat away from her again? That's kinda cruel, don't you think?"

She thinks the cruel thing was her coming back to Lima in the first place and expecting them to stand by and watch her raise Beth and not have any say in that. Taking Beth away will actually mean they're all free to try and move on with their lives. "Santana, when you're an adult, you'll understand that things are complicated sometimes."

"Really, you're going to stand there and patronize me like that? Really?"

Okay, so maybe that wasn't quite the right thing to say. After everything Santana's been through over the past few weeks, maybe dismissing her like a child isn't the best of ideas. She sighs and sinks down into the chair behind her desk. "What would you have me do?"

Santana doesn't seem to have an answer to that. She only shrugs again.

"Well that's helpful."

"What about your daughter? You even taken one second to think about her in all this?"

Of course she has, Beth is all she's thinking about. "Beth will be fine. She's young enough that none of this will affect her. That's why it's best if I go now, before she does get attached to Puck or Quinn."

"I wasn't talking about Beth." Santana shakes her head. "Listen, I might not much like Rachel, but what you're doing to her isn't cool. How many times are you gonna show up in her life, attempt to bond with her, then just take off when you get bored? I mean, I get it, I do. None of us can stand to be around Rachel for long, but you know we still somehow manage to put up with her. But her own mother can't do the same?"

Shelby hasn't given any thought to Rachel in all of this. To be honest, they've barely talked since she came back, and maybe that suited both of them. They'd tried the whole bonding thing, and it didn't work. Beth has to be her priority. Whether that's right or wrong. "I'm sorry, Santana. I know I'm letting you girls down by leaving, letting a lot of people down actually. But I don't have a choice. I should never have come back here, and I need to put that right." She climbs to her feet and takes a step towards Santana, but the girl only backs away. "I was so proud of you all tonight though. You were flawless up on that stage, and I'm going to miss the Trouble Tones more than you'll know."

Santana dismisses her with a wave of her hand. "Whatever. Like I even care what you do anyway." She turns and storms towards the door, brushing past Brittany.

Shelby watches her leave, then goes back to throwing items into the box.

"Ms Corcoran?" She jumps slightly, surprised to find that Brittany hasn't left with Santana. She's still in the doorway, clearly reluctant to enter but she is looking at Shelby now. "I just wanted to say thank you. For everything you did for Santana."

Shelby frowns. "Brittany, I didn't really do anything for Santana." If anything she perhaps should have done more to help the girl.

Brittany pauses as if trying to find the right words. "No, you did. You gave her a chance. Not many people do that. People just think she's mean and that she's not worth the effort. But you believed in her, you put her up front with Mercedes and she needed that. Needed someone to believe in her. So thank you."

"I only did what any good choir director would do. You put your best people up front. She's incredibly talented."

The smile that settles on Brittany's face is full of pride. "She is. I know that. I've always known that. But sometimes Santana doesn't seem to know it, but we're working on that." Brittany nods, but it seems to be aimed more at herself than at Shelby. "So thanks." Brittany bounces out of the room, leaving Shelby alone.

She picks up the last item on the desk. A photograph of Beth, and knows that however much it hurts her, it's the right decision for her to leave McKinley.

* * *

><p>Santana hasn't said a word since leaving Ms Corcoran's office. She doesn't think Brittany minds though. She knows that Brittany understands that sometimes she needs the quiet to think, and Brittany must know this is one of those times as she hadn't even turned the radio on as they drove over to Brittany's house.<p>

Now they're parked out front, still sitting in silence.

Oddly enough, it's Santana herself that finally breaks it. "Do you ever feel like the whole fucking world has got it in for us?" The way Brittany's face scrunches up in confusion tells Santana that no, Brittany has never once thought that. That doesn't really come as a surprise though. She thinks that as far as Brittany's concerned the universe will always be sunshine and unicorns, and while most of the time Santana loves her eternal optimism, sometimes she gets a little tired of always being the one to bring them crashing back to reality. "It's just every single time I start to think things might be going my way for once, everything turns to shit like that." She snaps her fingers. "Every single time."

That only seems to have made Brittany more confused. "Because we lost Sectionals, or because of Ms Corcoran leaving?"

"Both." They both mean the end of the Trouble Tones after-all. The Cheerios won't stick around now that there's no Regionals for them, which only reminds Santana that they might just have to face Coach Sylvester's wrath seeing as they've lost to New Directions, the one thing she told them they'd better not do. Oh, Monday is going to be fun. "We should have done that damn Adele song. If I'd stepped up and let go of my fucking issues then we'd have won. It was just a song and..." She trails off when Brittany places a hand on her arm, squeezing gently. That gesture has always meant calm down, so she does.

"Santana, what have I always said about shoulda woulda coulda?"

Santana has no idea what the answer is to that question, so she makes a wild guess. "That they're the last words of a fool?"

Brittany seems to consider that for a moment. "Not what I was going to say, but that works too."

"I know. It's a waste of time playing the What If game, but..."

"No. No buts. It's not your fault, don't start thinking it is. We lost. Big deal. It isn't the end of the world."

She studies Brittany, trying to decide if she means what she says, or if part of her maybe does blame Santana for their defeat. "Does it really not bother you? The losing?"

Brittany shifts in her seat so that she's facing Santana. "Not really. It bothers me that you're upset. I don't like it when you're upset. And sure it would have been good to carry on and go to Regionals, but no, like I've said before, winning or losing doesn't matter to me I guess. We got up there, we were awesome. What does any of the rest matter?"

Santana wishes she felt the same way. "I still think it's the universe screwing with us. And you know, I'm really starting to hate that damn auditorium. I swear it's cursed or something. Bad things always seem to happen there."

"I dunno. Good things happen there too."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Like tonight. Tonight you didn't care what anyone else thought, you got up on that stage and you danced with me. And I don't think I've ever been so proud of you."

Santana really doesn't know how to respond to that. She looks away, staring out the window. Brittany's house is already dark. The Pierces must have come home and gone straight to bed. "I should have done it sooner."

"All that matters is that you did it, so thank you. It meant a lot to me." She feels Brittany reaching for her hand, and she laces their fingers together. "And I don't think you realise how amazing you were up there tonight. Don't tell Mercedes I said this, because I don't want to hurt her feelings or anything, but you were so much better than her. You totally kicked her ass."

Santana turns to look at her. "Not as amazing as you. I kept getting distracted. Babe, you looked so hot, it was hard to focus on what I was supposed to be doing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Brittany smiles and squeezes her hand. Santana notices her eyes dart across to the house, can't fail to miss the way Brittany licks her bottom lip briefly. "Are we going inside?"

Santana almost tells her that hell yeah, they're going inside, but some random voice inside her head decides that now is a good time to remind her about the conversation she had this morning with Brittany's dad. She thinks maybe it's her conscience, she's not sure as it doesn't make an appearance all that often. "I think it's better if I go home." Judging by the stabbing pain in her chest, her heart really doesn't like that idea. Santana goes back to staring out of the window, because looking at Brittany right now and she'd be dragging her inside in about five seconds flat.

"You don't have to." Brittany pulls her hand into her lap so she can hold it in both of hers. "My dad said he'd talked to you. He's okay with you staying over now. He told you that, right?"

"Yeah, he did."

"But you still won't come inside?" There's disappointment in Brittany's voice, and Santana knows she'd definitely better not look at her now. "Did he say something to upset you? Because you were acting really weird around him before."

Santana stays silent. If she tells Brittany about the other things she and Jeff discussed then it's going to lead to them having to have that talk, the one about the future, and she's happier continuing to ignore that for as long as possible.

Thankfully Brittany doesn't push the subject. Instead, she asks, "Do you want me to come back to your house with you? Because I can do that."

Santana turns to face her, shaking her head. "No." She answers quickly, maybe too quickly judging by the hurt expression that appears on Brittany's face. She knows she needs to explain and fast. "You shouldn't have to. You shouldn't ever have to step foot inside that house. Hell, I don't even want to spend time there, so I'm not about to make you."

"You're not making me do anything, Santana."

It feels like she is. After-all why would anyone actually choose to be at her house? Once again she has to look away. She sighs. "I'm screwing everything up, aren't I?"

"No, you're not." Brittany reaches out and places a hand on Santana's cheek, turning her head so she has no choice but to look at her. "You're not screwing anything up, but please, come inside. I don't want you to be alone tonight."

Santana can tell Brittany is worried about her, worried that some of her more self-destructive habits might make an appearance if Brittany isn't keeping an eye on her. She hates that she's ever given Brittany reason to think like that. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Santana doesn't know where to begin. For making her worry about her. For hurting her by making her think she doesn't want to be with her tonight. For the fact that sometimes she feels jealous of the relationship Brittany has with her family, feels a little resentful that the Pierces always show up to watch Brittany perform, whether it's Glee, dance recitals, Cheerios or Motocross, when she can't remember the last time her parents came to any of her competitions. Her Abuela used to make the effort, but she guesses those days are long gone.

Brittany suddenly leans forward and presses a hand to her forehead.

Santana frowns. "What are you doing?"

"Checking your brain isn't overheating with all the thinking you're doing. You really need to give it a rest sometimes, you know, San, or one day it just might burn out on you. And that would really suck."

Well Santana can't really argue with that. "Yeah, I guess it would."

Brittany smiles, clearly satisfied that she's managed to distract Santana. "Now, are you gonna come inside?"

Santana really hasn't the energy to think of any more excuses why she can't stay the night, so she simply nods.

They don't say anything as they make their way inside. Apart from the quiet sound of a television coming from the basement, signaling that Irish is still awake, the house is silent. Brittany takes hold of Santana's hand and starts pulling her towards the stairs. Santana holds her ground though, and Brittany turns back to frown at her.

Santana pulls her hand free and walks through into the living room. "Maybe I should sleep on the sofa."

Brittany looks at her like she's clearly going insane. "My dad said you could sleep in my room. Why would you want to sleep on the sofa?"

"I know he said it was okay. That he'd trust us, but I don't know, it still feels a little wrong to do it the first chance we get. It'll look like we don't respect him."

Brittany looks like she's about to argue with her, but then her eyes light up. "Okay, wait here."

Santana watches Brittany bound up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Incredibly she manages to do this without making any noise. She really wishes she knew how Brittany had learned to be so stealthy.

She walks over to the sofa and collapses onto it. It's not that uncomfortable. She can survive one night sleeping here, even if her back still hurts from spending last night sleeping in the garage on the other sofa.

She doesn't hear Brittany return until she's stumbling into the room, her arms full of pillows and blankets.

"Erm, Brittany, what are you doing?"

Brittany drops her hoard of items to the floor. "You said you didn't want to sleep in my bedroom."

"Yeah."

"So we won't sleep in my bedroom."

Before Santana can ask what exactly she's up to, Brittany disappears upstairs once more, mumbling something about needing more supplies.

* * *

><p>Santana isn't sure what time it is when she's woken by the sound of voices. Early, she thinks judging by how much her body objects to waking up. But then again, it was after four am before they settled down to sleep. The voices get louder now and there's footsteps in the hallway. She hears them come to a stop outside the doorway, then she hears Jeff's voice. "What the..."<p>

Santana squeezes her eyes shut and buries her head into Brittany's neck. She thinks the safe move here is to pretend to be fast asleep. She thinks Brittany is doing the same as she feels her arms tighten around her, pulling her closer to her.

Cathy speaks next. "What?"

"You have got to be kidding me?" The exasperation in Jeff's voice is clear, but at least he doesn't sound angry about waking up to find his dining room has been transformed over night.

"Shhh, you'll wake them."

"That's all you're concerned about here?"

"Well, you have to give them credit for creativity."

"Creativity? Our seventeen year old daughter and her girlfriend have built a pillow fort in the dining room and all you can say is we should give them credit for their creativity?" Jeff sighs. "You know what? I give up. Let them sleep wherever the hell they want. On the sofa in the garage, a pillow fort in the dining room. Where will it be tonight? A tent in the backyard? The bathtub? What the hell did I start here?"

Jeff's voice grows fainter, and the footsteps move away.

Well that went better than Santana had expected, but then it's not like it's the first time they've done this kind of thing. Okay so the last time, they might have been twelve, but still.

She feels Brittany shift slightly and Santana lifts her head to look at her. "Hey."

"Hey." Brittany rubs her nose against hers. "Told you he wouldn't be mad."

"Yeah, yeah. You were right. As usual. I really need to stop doubting you."

"You really should. Now, where _are _we going to sleep tonight?"

Santana smirks slightly. "You know, I think your dad might just have something with his tent idea. Then technically we wouldn't be inside the house, right? So then we could..."

She doesn't get to finish as Brittany cuts her off with a kiss. Santana just hopes this would be classified as PG-13 rated.

* * *

><p>"What do you think?"<p>

It's Mercedes that asks the question, but Brittany keeps her eyes on Santana. Her hand hasn't let go of Santana's since Quinn breezed out of the bathroom leaving them to decide if they want to go crawling back to New Directions or not. Santana's eyes are locked onto hers, clearly trying to figure out how Brittany feels about the whole thing. Conflicted is the answer. She misses them, sure. Well some of them. Quinn, Mike, Tina, Sam. Okay so that's where the list ends, but still. It's the thought of having to sit in the same room as Finn Hudson that scares her. There's too many chairs in that choir room that she could use to smash his face in with, and then Santana would get all mad at her, because she's still insisting that she doesn't want Finn to pay for what he did, even if that might be the stupidest thing Brittany's ever heard, though she doesn't ever plan on telling Santana that. They both know though that Brittany will do whatever Santana wants. If Santana wants to go make nice with the Glee Club, then Brittany will sit in silence and not object. Santana doesn't look like she's made her decision yet though so Brittany just waits.

Mercedes must have grown bored of them staring at each though, as she lets out a huff. "You're doing it again. Having one of your telepathic conversations, aren't you? Do you guys realise how annoying that is for the other people in the room?"

Santana stares at Brittany for a few more seconds, then turns to Mercedes. "I vote we get Brad to take over the Trouble Tones. He can just sit there in silence while we call all the shots. It's the perfect scenario, and I'm pretty sure he'd jump at the chance to get away from the rest of those losers. He hates them almost as much as I do."

But not as much as Brittany hates them. Though Santana doesn't seem to have realised that. Nobody seems to have realised that.

Mercedes leans back against the sinks. "As tempting as that sounds, what'd be the point? This is our Senior year. Going back to New Directions is gonna be our only chance at a Nationals title. It's different for you two. You have Cheerios. You've already won two National titles, and this year you'll make it a hat-trick. I want that."

Brittany really wishes she could understand why everyone is obsessed with winning. She takes part in Glee, Cheerios and Motocross because she enjoys it. It never matters to her if they win or lose, and she doesn't know why it matters so much to everyone else. Maybe everyone else is like Santana, and they need to win so that they can believe how awesome they are, so they know that everyone else can see how awesome they are. She guesses she's just never cared all that much what people think about her. Part of her hopes that she never does.

Brittany has an idea. "You could always come back to Cheerios instead."

Santana nods. "Coach does keep going on about wanting to add some vocal runs again. And I suppose I'd be willing to put in a good word for you."

Mercedes shakes her head. "I don't think Cheerios was ever my thing."

Santana shrugs. "Well, I didn't want to say it, but yeah, it really wasn't."

Mercedes ignores her. "So are we going back?"

Brittany notices Santana look to her once more, but she can only shrug. This has to be Santana's decision. It was her choice to leave after-all, so it needs to be her choice to go back. Brittany's happy as long as she's with Santana and can dance. It never mattered to her whether that was with the Trouble Tones or New Directions.

Santana sighs. "You do know rejoining is committing social suicide? Again. And I don't think the rest of the Cheerios would ever be caught dead joining Glee club, even if Coach Sylvester would let them. So it'd just be the three of us if we do go back."

Brittany feels the need to point out, "And Sugar. Sugar would totally come with us."

Santana scowls at hearing this. "Are you kidding me? The one good thing about the Trouble Tones being disbanded is that at least I wouldn't have to be in the same room as Sharpay ever again. And now you're telling me you want to let her tag along with us?"

"Well yeah. It's Sugar." Brittany frowns, not sure why Santana would try to exclude Sugar from this.

Santana looks like she's about to argue, but then instead just rolls her eyes. "I suppose she is kind of the Team Pet, and even I'm not that mean that I'd ever be cruel to animals, so fine, whatever."

Brittany bounces up and down. "You totally secretly like her, don't you?"

"Yeah, in the same way people like small furry creatures."

It's good enough for Brittany and she pulls Santana in for a hug.

Mercedes shakes her head at them. "I'll go call Sugar then." She makes a hasty exit, leaving them alone.

Once she's gone, Brittany pulls back and studies Santana. "Are you sure about going back?"

Santana doesn't answer her, instead looks away, as if suddenly finding the floor way more interesting than Brittany.

"San? You know I'll go where you go. If you don't want to..."

Santana's head snaps up. "No, I do." There's nothing but uncertainty in her voice, which worries Brittany, but then she nods, and repeats, "I do. It's just..."

Brittany waits, running her hands up and down Santana's sides.

"It's just I haven't really been around any of them since the whole being outed thing."

"You're worried about how they're going to treat you? Treat us?" Brittany can't imagine any of them acting any different towards Santana. Besides if any of them do give her any trouble, well Brittany will just have to do something about it.

"I know, it's stupid. I mean they all hated me before they knew I was gay, right? So what am I worrying about?"

"Hey, stop it." Brittany edges closer to her, her hands coming to rest at the small of her back. "None of them hate you, but if you want them to like you more, then you could always try being nicer to them."

Santana seems to consider that for a moment, then mutters, "So not worth it."

"And who knows, maybe it'll be fun watching Sugar annoy everyone."

Santana brightens a bit at the thought. "That's something to look forward to at least."

"Then come on, to the auditorium." Brittany starts to move towards the door, but then notices Santana isn't following her. "What?"

"I was just thinking, about what Quinn said. And I hope she's wrong."

"About what?" Brittany's lost, not seeing what Santana is talking about.

"I don't want these to be the best years of our lives. They can't be, because that would be really depressing. Lets face it, high school sucks. Even if we win Nationals, you said it last night, how much is that going to matter ten, twenty years from now? Are we gonna end up like Mr Schue? Trying to relive our glory days because we have nothing else in our lives that counts for anything?" Santana folds her arms, shaking her head slightly. "I don't want that for us. I want our best years to be after we get out of this stupid town, and we are getting out of here. I swear I'm gonna get us out of here. I don't know how yet, but I'm gonna make it happen." Santana suddenly falters slightly. "I mean, you want that, right? To get out of Lima? To leave with me?"

"Santana, I'd follow you anywhere, remember?" That's a non-answer, Brittany's aware of that, but it seems to satisfy Santana.

"Okay, good." Santana steps forward, taking Brittany's hand in hers once more. "Then lets go get this over with, but one wrong word from Bilbo and Snix is being allowed out to play." For once Brittany doesn't feel any desire to calm Santana's violent tendencies. "And by the way, I still fucking hate that auditorium."

Brittany isn't exactly its biggest fan any more either.


	14. Extraordinary Merry Christmas: Part 1

New Directions have finished decorating the tree and everyone else has filed out of the choir room, leaving Santana to hang back and study their handiwork. This tree is so much better than last year's. In fact, everything about this Christmas is looking like it will be better than last year.

Arms slide around her waist, squeezing her tight and she smiles. Yeah, this Christmas is definitely going to be better. "Hey."

"Hey." Brittany rests her chin on her shoulder. "Whatcha doing?"

"Just thinking." Santana's eyes stay on the tree, but she does lean back against Brittany a little.

"About what?"

"You."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Santana turns, wrapping her arms around Brittany as she does so to pull her into a hug. "Have I told you how happy you make me?"

Brittany holds her tighter. "Yeah, you might have mentioned it once or twice or a million times."

"Well good, because it's true."

Brittany pulls back slightly, tilting her head as she studies her. "Should I be worried here?"

"About what?"

"About how you've not stopped smiling today, how you were actually bouncing before and how you're covered in tinsel." Brittany tugs on the end of it to emphasize her point. "And you do know this is in front of other people? So I was just wondering if there's some Invasion of the Body-snatchers thing going on in Lima." Brittany moves her hands to Santana's shoulders and leans forward to stare at her more closely. "You're not some kind of pod person, are you?"

It takes a lot of effort to keep up with Brittany's train of thought sometimes, and Santana can only raise an eyebrow at this latest theory. "And what if I am?"

Brittany seems to think about that for a moment. "Then I'd want the real Santana back. Even if she does hate Christmas, unlike Pod-Person Santana."

"I don't _hate _Christmas." It might not have ever been Santana's favorite holiday, but she has never said she hated it.

Brittany appears not to hear her, her mind clearly too caught up in this idea of hers. "Although I'd want to keep Pod-Person Santana too. Because two Santanas? How awesome would that be?"

Not awesome at all as far as Santana's concerned. "I don't know, Britt. I don't think either Santana would be okay with sharing you. Even if it was with another Santana."

"They wouldn't?"

"Sorry, but the thought of somebody else getting to touch you?" Santana shakes her head. "I would ends them before they even got to second base."

Brittany actually looks a little disappointed to hear that. "So we're not gonna be having any threesomes anytime soon?"

Santana frowns, but before she can tell Brittany that no, they won't be, Brittany laughs.

"I'm joking, San. I'm joking." She pulls Santana into another hug. "I don't want to share you with anyone else either." She kisses Santana's forehead. "I never wanted to share you with anyone else."

Santana tenses a little at that, but quickly shakes it off. She doesn't want to think about the past, not now, not when the present is pretty awesome. She pulls back just enough so she can lean up to kiss Brittany. When they break apart, they're both grinning like idiots.

Brittany pinches at her side. "You're doing it again."

"What?" Santana tries to squirm away from her, but Brittany still has one arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place.

"Smiling."

"I told you. I'm happy. It's our first Christmas together."

Brittany laughs again. "Santana, we've spent every Christmas together since we were seven."

Except for last year. They didn't spend last Christmas together, but Santana really doesn't want to bring that up right now. "You know what I mean." She knows that Brittany gets it, that's she's just playing with her. "It's our first Christmas."

Brittany's face falls. "Except it isn't, because you're gonna be here, and I'm gonna be in Santa Fe."

A fact they've both been pretending to ignore up until now. They haven't even talked about it since Brittany broke the news to her, that the Pierces would be spending the whole of Christmas and New Year at Brittany's Uncle's. It had thrown both of them. They've followed the same Christmas rituals for years. Ice skating on Christmas Eve, falling asleep watching the same Christmas movies, and exchanging presents in the early hours of Christmas morning before anyone else was even awake. The thought of not getting to do that this year hadn't gone down well with either of them, especially after last year's events, but yet here they are again, facing the prospect of spending Christmas apart.

Brittany bites down on her bottom lip, a sign that she's close to tears. "I wanted to ask you to come with us, Santana, I really did, but my Mom said it wasn't fair to ask you, that I'd be making you choose between your family and me, and I didn't want to do that."

Santana wants to point out that she wouldn't exactly need to put much thought into that decision, that of course she'd choose Brittany over her family, every single time. There's not even a choice there. The thought of Christmas with her parents fills her with dread, especially now that her Abuela isn't even going to be around to make things slightly bearable. "Britt, it's okay. It's still our first Christmas together. So you're gonna be in a different state." Santana shrugs. "It's no big deal."

Brittany doesn't look like she believes that any more than Santana does. "But..."

Santana cuts her off with another kiss, then she's hit with a sudden idea. "Look, how about we bring Christmas forward a few days? Christmas Day is now the twenty second of December. We'll do everything we normally do, just three days earlier."

Brittany seems to brighten a little, but doesn't look completely convinced. "Isn't that like cheating or something? It's not gonna piss off the ghosts of Christmas, is it? Because I really don't want any visits from those guys, Santana. They kinda scare the crap out of me."

"It's fine, Britt. I'm sure they'll understand why we need to change the date just this once."

Brittany slowly nods, finally smiling again. "Okay. Operation Early Christmas is a go."

And until then Santana plans to make the most of every moment she can spend with her girl.

* * *

><p>Sam's more than a little surprised to find Santana leaning against his locker at lunch time. He slows to a stop and glances around the hallway, looking for anyone else she might be waiting for that isn't him. She straightens up though when she spots him and he guesses it is him she's wanting to talk to. He doesn't think she's ever gone looking for him before now, well except for those times when she was trying to steal him away from Quinn. Other than that the only times they've ever spoken alone is when he's approached her, and that was even true when they were dating. At least she doesn't look angry, so that's a good thing. As he gets closer though and sees how she has her hands shoved into the pockets of her Cheerios jacket, how her eyes won't quite meet his, well if he didn't know any better he'd say she looked nervous, which well, is new. And weird.<p>

"Hey." He stops in front of her.

She moves out of his way but doesn't say anything.

He opens his locker and grabs the books he needs for his next class. He's finished and closed the door and she still hasn't said anything, is just standing there, staring at the floor. Looks like it's up to him to say something then. "So what's up?"

Her head snaps up and there's a determined expression on her face that he thinks can only mean trouble. "Britt's Motocross practice was canceled cause of the weather or some shit."

"Okay." That makes sense. The weather is pretty bad out there at the moment, being winter and all. What doesn't make sense is why he needs to know this.

"But she's got some Student Council meeting instead."

Sam really doesn't see what any of this has to do with him, but he gets the feeling he's about to find out. "And?"

"And so you're coming over to my place after school, Trouty. Meet me at my car."

It's the first time he's ever been invited over to her house and he must be in shock, as she's walking away down the hallway before he realizes he can't meet her today. "Santana?" She stops and slowly turns to face him. "I can't tonight. It's Wednesday." The way she's looking at him tells him he might as well have told her the sky is blue. Clearly she doesn't understand the significance so he repeats himself. "It's Wednesday."

She still doesn't seem to get it and she actually looks like she's taken it as an insult that he's telling her no, and she walks back over to him. "And what, you have somewhere important to be on Wednesdays? Like I'm supposed to believe you have a social life of any kind?"

He might take offense at that if it wasn't true. "Wednesday is new comics day. I have to go to the comic book store after school. It's tradition."

"Are you kidding me? You're choosing comic books over a friend?" Yeah, she's definitely taking this personally.

"The new Batman is out today." Surely even she can understand that? "Wait, did you just say you're my friend?"

"No." Her face is blank, but there's a hint of panic in her eyes.

"You totally did. Awwww. I love you too, Santana." He wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her into a sideways hug, which of course she desperately tries to claw her way out of.

"Whatever. Look, just be at my car, okay? I'll drive you to the stupid comic book store first, then we'll go to mine." She manages to escape his grip, dodging his arm when he reaches for her again.

"Okay." Anything that saves him from having to walk to the comic store is fine by him. Or at least it is until he realizes that he has no idea why she even wants him to go over to her house. He turns around to ask, but she's already gone.

* * *

><p>True to her word, Santana drives him to the comic book store, and she doesn't even once make fun of him on the way there. She doesn't say anything in fact, just turns the radio up so loud that he starts to get a headache. He gets the feeling that something is clearly bothering her, but also knows asking her what's wrong will likely get him nowhere.<p>

She parks up, down the block from the store of course. "Okay, now make it quick, Trouty. I haven't got all night."

He undoes his seat-belt. "You're not coming inside?"

She raises an eyebrow. "What, my reputation hasn't taken enough hits already with the whole lesbian thing and being in Glee club? You want me to add nerd to that list too? I don't think so. You're on your own."

He doesn't push the issue as she'd probably only kick him to the curb. Literally. He hops out the car and jogs across the street to the store.

He guesses he must lose track of time or something. He doesn't mean to, but his limited finances mean he can't afford half the stuff he wants, and he's having trouble deciding what to buy. He realizes his mistake when the door flies open and he looks up to find Santana standing there, hand on her hip. Her eyes dart around the store and the second they fall on him, she's storming over to him. "Seriously, Trouty, how long does it take to pick up a few comic books?"

Apparently a long time when he can only choose maybe five titles. He has at least twelve in his hands so far, that's as far as he's got in narrowing down his selection. He doesn't dare ask her to wait any longer though, so just keeps hold of the bottom five and starts to put the rest back.

She grabs his hand though, stopping him, giving him a questioning look.

"I'm just gonna get these ones." He holds up the five comics.

Her eyes narrow as if she's trying to figure things out, her gaze flitting from him to the two piles of comics. She bites down on her bottom lip and somehow he knows she knows. He's expecting her to give him that pitying look he still gets from people when they realize money is still a little on the short side where he's concerned. Instead though she's gone back to looking as annoyed as she did when she first entered the store. Or at least doing one hell of a job of pretending to be. "Okay, clearly you're incapable of making any decisions. It's okay, I get it. You're blonde and pretty so it's okay that that empty brain of yours is a bit on the slow side. It really is." She takes all of the comics out of his hands, even grabbing the three issues he'd already returned to the shelves. "So let's speed things up here and buy all of these, okay? Britt will be home from school soon and I really don't have time to wait around for you to get your act together."

"Santana, I can't..."

She waves him off and stomps over to the counter. She's paying for the lot before he can argue with her. "But if the latest issue of Batwoman isn't in this pile, then we're gonna have a problem, Trouty."

Thankfully it is.

* * *

><p>He's lying on the floor of Santana's bedroom, reading the last of his comic books, and he still has no idea why he's even here. As soon as they got here, Santana had just led him upstairs, claimed the copy of Batwoman, then collapsed onto her bed to read it. She's also taken the time to flick through some of the other titles he got, declared most of them to be crap, and since then she's just been lying on her back, staring at the ceiling.<p>

Not for the first time, he peers at her over the top of his comic. "Ready to talk about it yet?"

Santana doesn't move. "Nope."

It's not that he has better things to do, because he really doesn't. He'd just like to know what this is all about. "How about now?" He doesn't get an answer so just turns his attention back to his comic. He's only read three panels before she speaks though.

"I need to get Brittany something for Christmas."

"Okay."

"Well?"

He looks up to find she's now propped herself up on her elbows and is glaring at him. "Well what?" He wonders if maybe she's trying to confuse him on purpose.

"Well what do I get her?"

"And you're asking me because?"

"Because you've dated more girls than I have. So you know about this kind of shit."

That isn't even remotely true, though he wishes it was. Well the more girls part is, but when Santana's grand total is one, that's not difficult. "Santana, I've dated all of three girls. One of which was you. One broke my heart. And the other was Quinn. The only thing I learned from those relationships is that women are all kinds of crazy." He frowns. "And make your head hurt." He sits up, closes the comic and carefully places it down on the floor beside him, giving her his full attention. "Look, you've known Brittany forever. You seriously have no idea what to get her?"

"But it's different now. Before I was just buying a gift for a friend. Now she's my girlfriend, so it's gotta be something awesome, right? Isn't that the whole point?"

"I don't think it is, no." He's pretty sure that Brittany will think anything that comes from Santana is awesome and he really doesn't get why she's making such a big deal over this. "What did you get her last year?"

"Nothing." She sits up suddenly, rubbing at her forehead and he wonders if she's getting a headache too. "No, I did, I did get her something, but I never gave it to her."

Sam's back to being confused. "Why not?"

Now she's looking at him like he's stupid. "Because she was with Artie."

Sam doesn't see why that would make a difference to whether she bought Brittany a Christmas present or not. "You didn't buy her sexy underwear, did you? Because the one time my dad bought my mom something like that, he had to sleep on the sofa for a week. I don't think woman like it when you buy them underwear because it's really only a gift to yourself. Or so my mom says anyway." He shifts slightly when he sees Santana's dark expression, and quickly tries to do some damage control. "Unless you bought yourself sexy underwear and were planning on wearing it for her. Then I think it's okay. Because I'm sure Brittany would like that. I'm sure she'd definitely like unwrapping you and..." And why can't he seem to stop talking? His eyes trail over Santana's body and he knows it's a mistake the minute it happens, but it's just instinct, he swears.

Santana folds her arms over her chest. "Are you picturing me in my underwear right now?" Her eyes narrow. "Wait, are you picturing my girlfriend in her underwear right now? Because that kind of thing will lead to you losing your nuts, Trouty." He quickly draws his knees up to his chest but sadly it doesn't go unnoticed. "I swear if you get a boner, then I'm throwing your ass out onto the street. I know me and Britts are hot, but I think you need to explain to your little friend how this whole gay thing works. How it means I won't ever be touching your dick so its wasting its time getting excited around me."

"I'm not..."

She holds a hand up and he takes the hint and stops talking. She drops back down onto her back so he just goes back to reading his comic. After a few minutes of silence though, he can't resist any longer and asks, "So what did you get her last year?"

She sighs. "Does it matter?"

This whole being friends with Santana Lopez is turning out to be much more exhausting than he had expected it to be. "Why, is it a secret or something?" He wouldn't be surprised if it was actually. Most things are when it comes to these two.

"No, it's just..." She sits up, sliding off the bed and walking over to her closet. "It's really lame." She scrabbles around at the back, eventually dragging out a storage box, a really large storage box. Once the box is in the middle of the room, she sits down cross-legged beside it.

Sam climbs to his feet and joins her, sitting down across from her. "What's with the box?"

She doesn't answer, just lifts the lid off, leaving him to figure it out for himself, or not, seeing as none of the items inside mean much to him at first glance. There's various movie ticket stubs, several friendship bracelets, a stuffed duck that looks more than a little battle damaged, a pair of pink sunglasses and some sort of knitted thing he thinks is supposed to be a hat. Maybe. And that's just the top layer. Everything is just thrown in the box in a huge jumble, there's no organization system in place at all. Or maybe there is, as Santana digs in one corner until she finds what she's looking for. Sam meanwhile sifts through the rest of the contents. There's crayon drawings of cats amongst other things. It's only when he comes across the photographs, all of Brittany. Solo shots. Her and Santana at various ages in various poses, that's when he finally gets it and he looks across at her, grinning.

She only frowns at him though. "What?"

"You have a Brittany box."

She glance from him to the box. "Shut up."

"No, it's cute. You have a Brittany box."

She lets out a huff. "Can you stop calling it that?"

"What else am I supposed to call it?" He taps the side of it. "Because it's quite clearly a Brittany box."

"It's...it's..." She folds her arms and glares at him. "Fine, okay, it's a Brittany box." She rolls her eyes, and he decides he's safer not trying to tease her about it any longer, not right now anyway. She tosses him the box she has in her hands. "Here."

It's a white box, the name Pandora written across the top. "You bought her jewelry?" He flips it open to find a charm bracelet sitting inside. Several of the charms are Christmas themed. A Santa Claus, a snowman, a Christmas tree and a sleigh. Then there seems to be a duck, a cat. Each one is separated from the next with either a red or green bead, the colors alternating round the bracelet. There's still room for a couple of more beads to be added. "Isn't this stuff like really expensive? Santana, how much did you spend on this?" He holds the box out to her, suddenly not trusting himself to even hold it.

Santana only shrugs. "It started off with a couple of charms, then I kinda just kept adding to it as the year went on." She takes the box from him. "But then Christmas came, and everything was all about Artie for her, and we weren't even really talking so..."

"So it stayed in the box?"

Santana sighs. The way she's studying it, he guesses it's been a while since she last looked at it. "It's too much, isn't it?"

"Depends. How would Brittany feel about you spending hundreds of dollars on her?"

"It's not like money's an issue."

"Must be nice not ever having to worry about money."

Her head snaps up to meet his gaze. "Must be nice having parents who care, instead of just buying you off all the time."

Well that's certainly a conversation killer and they're left sitting in silence.

Eventually Sam gestures towards the box. "You know, I think she'd love it."

"Yeah?" Santana still doesn't look sure.

"Yeah, but not because you spent a load of money on it. She'll love it because you picked it out for her. She'd also love a present that cost like five dollars as long as you've chosen it yourself."

"That your way of telling me to quit asking for your advice?"

Sam climbs to his feet, stopping to place a hand on Santana's shoulder. "That's my way of telling you to have a little faith in yourself. You don't need anyone's help in choosing a present for Brittany."

"But..."

"No, no buts. You don't need my help. You don't need anyone's help. You got this, Santana." He collects up his comics, making sure to leave her the Batwoman though. "I'll see you tomorrow." He leaves her studying the contents of her Brittany box.

* * *

><p>Santana had almost made it. She's standing at her front door, her hand is even on the handle, but unfortunately luck is not with her today as her mother shouts to her from the kitchen before she can make it outside. So very close to sneaking out without having to have yet another awkward conversation. She considers simply making a run for it, just ignoring her mother and leaving anyway, but she hesitates too long, giving her mother the chance to make it into the hallway.<p>

"Santana?"

Santana turns around, slowly, very slowly. "Hey, Mami. I'm going over to Brittany's." Santana doesn't think it needs saying really. It's not like there's anywhere else she'd be going at this time of night.

Her mother nods. "That's fine, Mija, but could we maybe talk for a moment before you do?"

Santana wonders if she'd be in trouble if she told her no, told her that Brittany is waiting for her and she doesn't have time to talk to her right now, that more importantly she really doesn't want to talk to her right now.

Her mother must sense her reluctance as she places a hand on Santana's arm. "Please, Santana?"

Well that leaves Santana with little choice in the matter. It's unusual for her mother to ask nicely so whatever it is must be important, so she can only nod and follow her mother into the kitchen. Her mother sits down at the counter, gesturing for her to do the same. "Santana, your father and I have been talking."

Santana learnt a long time ago that that is never a good thing. Whenever her parents actually have a conversation with each other it always seems to result in something bad for her. She chooses to remain standing, leaning against the counter instead of sitting, just in case she needs to make a hasty exit.

Her mother takes a deep breath, clearly knowing that whatever she's about to say isn't going to go down well. "And we've decided that with everything that's happened lately, it might be an idea if we get away from Lima for Christmas this year."

Santana hadn't been expecting that. Sure, her parents are away a lot, but they've never gone away and left her for the holidays before.

Her mother is watching her reaction. "Your father has suggested Aspen."

Even more of a surprise. "You're going skiing? Seriously?"

Her mother smiles and shakes her head. "Well I think I'll be giving the slopes a miss, but your father seems keen on giving it a go, even though I'm convinced he'll only end up breaking a leg, but I'm sure I can trust you to keep him out of trouble."

And the surprises just keep on coming. "Wait, you want me to come with you?"

"Of course."

"But why?"

"Why wouldn't we?"

"Because the last time we went on a family vacation I was six."

Her mother looks away. "And that's why I think we all need this. I know you think we've never shown you enough attention over the years, which is why we want to try and work on this." Her mother reaches across the counter and places a hand on top of hers.

Santana pulls her hand away and folds her arms. "And you want to go somewhere where it's actually colder than Ohio to do this because?"

"We thought that you'd enjoy it. Learning something new."

"When have I ever shown an interest in learning to ski?"

Her mother sighs. "We don't know what you're interested in, Santana. That's kind of the whole point of us wanting to do this."

Santana knows she should be grateful that they're making an effort, but the thought of being trapped somewhere with them for any length of time? That sounds like her idea of hell. They're making some grand gesture here, but that's not what she wants from them, not what she needs from them. She just needs them to act like parents. This though, this is all too much too fast. "Do I even get a choice in this?"

"We're hardly going to force you to do something you don't want to, Santana."

"Then I'll pass on the whole Aspen at Christmas thing, thanks."

"Santana..."

"I have plans for Christmas already, okay? Something you didn't bother to ask me before planning this family bonding time." Santana pushes off the counter, moving towards the door slightly. "Mami, it's my first Christmas with Brittany. You honestly think I'd agree to leave her?" She decides not to mention the fact that Brittany isn't going to be in town for Christmas, it's not the point. The point is she doesn't want to go anywhere she's going to be forced to spend time with her parents. She already knows just the kind of conversations they'll be wanting to have with her. They'll start asking her about college, and she still isn't anywhere close to figuring that out. She really can't face all the questions they'll ask her that she won't be able to answer.

Her mother looks disappointed but not surprised at her response. "Then okay. We'll stay in Lima then."

The guilt trip. Her mother really doesn't know her if she thinks that's going to work on her. "You and Papi should still go. I'm gonna be over at the Pierces most of the time anyway." Santana wonders if she should be worried about how easily she can lie to her mother like this. She also knows that's going to hurt her mother, that she would rather spend time with Brittany's family rather than her own, but it's not her fault that the truth hurts. "So you two should go, enjoy yourselves." She thinks she knows why they'd rather not be here. If they're here, they're going to end up having to choose between her and her Abuela. No way is her Abuela going to sit down for Christmas dinner with her, and she knows her father will want to avoid having to make a choice for as long as he possibly can. And that suits her just fine. She really can't handle having her Abuela reject her yet again. So yeah, it's much better for everyone if they're out of town for the holidays. "Now is that it? Because I really need to go."

Her mother only nods and Santana heads straight for the front door before she can say anything else. As long as she gets to celebrate with Brittany like they've planned, then spending Christmas alone sounds good enough to her. Of course that doesn't mean she'll be telling Brittany about that.

* * *

><p>Santana makes it over to Brittany's house only ten minutes later than planned, which isn't bad considering. She lets herself in, stopping only to duck her head inside the living room to say hello to Brittany's parents, then she makes her way up to Brittany's room. She finds that the door is closed, which is a little unusual, but she simply shrugs, and opens the door. Or tries to anyway, but the door will only open a crack before something stops it. "What the hell?" She tries again but gets nowhere. "Britt?"<p>

There's movement from behind the door. "Santana?"

"Brittany, is there a reason you've barricaded yourself in your room? Irish hasn't started sneaking inside your room to watch you sleep or some other creepy kind of shit, has he? Because I swear I will have him shipped back to Ireland in a crate."

"No, nothing like that."

"Then why?" This is unusual behaviour even by Brittany's standards.

"I'm on top secret Christmas business."

"Okay." Not that Santana has a clue what that even means, but at least it doesn't sound like anything she needs to worry about. "You wanna let me in?"

"Yeah, sure." There's the sound of something being moved, but Brittany doesn't open the door. "You are alone, aren't you?"

"No, I brought Rachel Berry with me. I thought it would be fun to hang out with her all evening and she can teach us to sing hundreds of Barbara songs." When Brittany still doesn't appear willing to let her in, Santana sighs. "Of course I'm alone, Britt. Now let me in."

The door is finally opened and Brittany allows her inside. Immediately Brittany is replacing the chair behind the door to stop it being opened again. Once Brittany's apparently satisfied that no-one will be able to enter, Brittany turns to Santana and frowns. "You were supposed to use the secret knock."

"What secret knock?"

"You know, the secret knock."

No, Santana doesn't know and she can only stare at Brittany, waiting for her to explain.

"The secret knock that tells me it's you and not anybody else."

"I know what a secret knock is, B, but I don't know what _the _secret knock is." Santana has a sudden worry that this is only going to lead to Brittany trying to teach her some kind of complex knock that no doubt will take her hours to learn only to find that she never needs to use it ever again. "Actually, forget it. How bout next time I just yell through the door instead?"

Brittany shrugs. "But the secret knock is more fun." She turns and walks over to the other side of the room, and sits down on the floor.

Santana takes in the current state of the bedroom. The floor is cluttered with various items and rolls of wrapping paper. "This is the top secret business? Wrapping Christmas gifts?" Santana stops beside the one item that Brittany has managed to finish wrapping so far. "And it isn't going well?"

"Wrapping stuff is hard."

"You should do what I do. Only buy things that come in a square box. Anything else is way too much effort to wrap." Santana carefully makes her way across the room, somehow managing to avoid standing on anything breakable and collapses down onto the bed. If Brittany is going to be busy for a while, well she might as well take a nap.

Apparently Brittany has other plans though. "I thought you came over to help me."

"How can I have come over to help you if you didn't even tell me this is how you were spending the evening?"

"I didn't tell you because then you wouldn't have come over." Okay, so Brittany might have a point there.

"Again, if I didn't know, then I couldn't have offered to help, therefore I don't have to help now." Santana knows exactly how this conversation is going to end, in her wrapping everything herself while Brittany just sits there supervising. However she intends to hold out for as long as she can. She does still have her pride after-all.

"But San..."

"Nope." Santana closes her eyes just in case Brittany decides to break out the pout already.

"Fine." Brittany huffs, then there's the sound of rustling paper as she goes back to the task at hand. "But just remember that it's going to take me all night if you don't help."

"S'okay. Just wake me up when you're done." After a few minutes of Brittany not saying anything else, Santana opens one eye and watches as Brittany struggles to wrap an overly large plush T-Rex. She sits up, her eyes scanning the room. "Who are all these presents for anyway?"

Brittany looks up at her. "My family and the Glee Club mostly."

"You brought the Glee Club presents? Why?"

"You didn't?"

"No." In fact she hasn't bought anyone any presents. She's still working on finding the perfect gift for Brittany, that's left little time for getting anyone else anything, even if she had wanted to.

"I didn't get Finn anything though."

Santana can understand that. "It'd have been a little weird if you did. Unless you gave him something that exploded when he opened it. That would be okay." Santana sits up quickly, opening her other eye. "But don't do that, because there's a chance it'd end in you going to jail, and that would suck."

"Got it. No exploding gifts for Finn."

Santana slides off the bed and goes to sit beside Brittany. She smooths out the wrapping paper that Brittany is trying to tape down and holds it in place. Working together they soon have the T-Rex wrapped up and start to work their way through the rest of the pile.

They're on the third gift when Santana can't resist asking, "So is my gift in with all this stuff?"

"No. Yours is hidden somewhere you won't ever find it, so you'll have to wait until Christmas to see what it is. I'll give you a clue though, it's totally awesome and you're gonna love it."

Santana's sure she is. She just wishes she was as confident when it came to her gift to Brittany. It doesn't help that Brittany is insisting that they don't open their presents to each other until Christmas morning, so she won't even get to see Brittany's reaction to the gift, and she's worried she won't be able to tell if Brittany's lying if she tells her she loves it.

Brittany pauses mid wrap and turns to watch her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."

"About?"

"About how I really wish you weren't going away for Christmas."

Brittany holds her gaze. "If you ask me to stay, I will. I'll tell my parents that I'm not going."

"I know you would, Britt, but I'm not gonna ask you to do that." She would never ask Brittany to make a choice between her and her family.

"I could do it anyway. Even if you didn't ask."

"No, you're gonna spend Christmas with your family. And us? We're gonna stick to the plan to have our Christmas early."

Brittany leans closer and kisses Santana's cheek. "You're seriously like the best girlfriend ever. You know that right?"

"Nope, I think you hold that title. But I'm a close second."

Brittany smiles and shakes her head, but doesn't argue with her. "I love you so much, Santana."

"I love you too." And Santana fully intends to show Brittany that every chance she has this Christmas.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapter has been an absolute nightmare to write. Writing Christmas fics in August/September is not easy.**


	15. Extraordinary Merry Christmas: Part 2

**A/N : So one good thing about the Glee finale is it's made me determined to finish my Brittana fics. I'm going to take this fic slightly AU though because I really can't work in the whole Brittany not graduating plot because it really didn't make any sense that a) Brittany would be allowed to continue with Glee club, Cheerios and Student council if she was failing so bad, and b) that Santana wouldn't know that she was failing. It all even makes less sense now that it's cannon that Brittany is a super genius. Also warning, there is quite a bit of Sam in this chapter, but season 3 Sam was awesome. And as I'm now ignoring season 4 then that means Sam never turned into an asshole and stayed the good guy he used to be.**

* * *

><p>Brittany knows she's early. Like two hours early. Maybe. If she's honest she's not really sure what time she was supposed to pick Santana up for their Not-Christmas Eve date, but she does know that it wasn't supposed to be this early. The chances of Santana being awake before nine am when she doesn't have school are very very small, yet here Brittany is standing at the bottom of Santana's driveway. She had planned on letting herself inside and sneaking up to Santana's bedroom, to wake her up by leaping onto the bed. Or maybe sliding into bed beside her and waking Santana with a good morning kiss would be a better option.<p>

Her plans have been thrown a little though because she's arrived to find Mrs Lopez's car sitting in the driveway. Brittany can only stare at it, hoping that doing so will reveal why it's there, or at least make it disappear, because if it's there, then that would mean that Santana's mom is home.

She glances from the car to the house. She should go home. She's early. Santana's not expecting her for another few hours, and Mrs Lopez is inside the house. She should go home.

She hasn't spoken to Mrs Lopez since, well she can't even remember the last time she spoke to her. For some reason she always makes Brittany nervous, and when she gets nervous Brittany starts to babble, and then Mrs Lopez always gives her that look. The one that clearly says why is my daughter even friends with you?

Yeah, she should go home.

Her feet seem to have a different idea though as they're carrying her towards the front door, despite that not being where she wants to be going. Her feet always betray her. Always.

Once she's at the door, Brittany decides she'd better knock. She's not even sure if Santana's parents know she has a key and she doesn't want to get Santana into trouble.

Mrs Lopez answers the door, frowning a little when she sees her. "Hello, Brittany."

"Hi, Mrs Lopez." She really should have gone home.

"Are you here to see Santana?"

"Erm..." Brittany pauses, wondering if that's one of those trick questions that she's always getting in trouble for answering, because why else would she be here?

Mrs Lopez steps aside to let Brittany in. "I'm not sure Santana's left her bed yet this morning. Did she know you were coming over?"

"Yeah, but I'm early." Hopefully Brittany was allowed to answer that question.

Mrs Lopez nods. "Well I'm sure you know as well as I do that trying to wake Santana up in the morning is a suicide mission. So why don't you come through into the kitchen? I just made a fresh pot of coffee."

Mrs Lopez then turns and walks away leaving Brittany with no choice but to follow after her. Anything else would be rude, wouldn't it? Even if it is very tempting to run upstairs and beg Santana to save her from what's sure to be an awkward conversation. No, she can do this. She can survive anything Mrs Lopez is going to throw at her and then spend the day with Santana as planned.

Mrs Lopez gestures for her to sit down at the kitchen table and Brittany once again doesn't dare not to do as she's told. Mrs Lopez pours her a cup of coffee and places in front of her. She then pours herself a cup and sits down opposite Brittany, offering her a tight smile.

Normally Brittany doesn't struggle to think of things to say, but when it comes to Santana's mother, then it's like her brain goes into sleep mode. It doesn't help when Mrs Lopez is staring at her like this, as if expecting something from Brittany, something Brittany can't ever seem to give her.

Eventually Mrs Lopez must get bored of the silence. "So, Brittany, how's school?"

"It's okay." Brittany shrugs, not really knowing what else to say on that subject.

"Not struggling with your classes this year?"

Now Brittany knows what answer she has to give to that question. "No."

Mrs Lopez shakes her head. "I don't know how you girls do it. My senior year I didn't have time for anything except studying. Yet you kids these days find time to date, go to parties, and take part in all these extra-curricular activities, and still manage to keep your grades up."

"That's why I want to get my time machine to work. Because then you could have more time for stuff, you know?" Brittany remembers too late that she's not supposed to tell people about her time machine. That Santana told her to keep it a secret, but the damage is done now. Maybe if she just keeps talking Mrs Lopez will forget she ever mentioned it. "And you'd never have to choose between which thing you want to do that day. Because sometimes I have to choose between Glee club, Cheerios, Motocross, student council or spending time with Santana, and it sucks that I can't do everything."

Mrs Lopez is staring at her in disbelief so maybe she did pick up on the whole time machine thing. "You're on the student council?"

"I'm class president."

"Santana didn't tell me that."

Brittany would have been surprised if Santana had. Actually she's fairly sure Santana never talks to her mother at all if she can help it. She certainly spends enough time avoiding her.

"That's a major achievement, Brittany, being Class President."

Brittany shrugs. "Not really. Class Presidents don't seem to do much." And again that seems to be the wrong thing to say as it only makes Mrs Lopez frown at her some more.

Thankfully she's saved from having to say anything else as Santana chooses that moment to pad into the kitchen. Brittany is pretty sure her girlfriend isn't fully awake, and that it's only the smell of coffee that has made her crawl out of bed and down the stairs. Santana yawns, stretches and finally her eyes seem to focus on the slightly surreal scene that is playing out in front of her. Santana looks slowly from Brittany to her mother then back. Something tells Brittany that she's trying to figure out if this is some kind of nightmare.

Mrs Lopez stands and quickly pours another cup of coffee and then slides it along the counter towards Santana, as if that will act as some kind of peace offering. "Morning, Mija. Brittany and I were just catching up. It seems like ages since we've had the chance to talk, doesn't it, Brittany?"

It does, but Brittany can't help thinking that's a good thing.

Santana must think the same as she scowls at her mother. When Santana doesn't say anything though, only folds her arms and continues to stare at the two of them, that's when Brittany knows for sure that she really is still half asleep. She also knows that Santana has a habit of lashing out when she's forced to interact with people before she's had the chance to wake up properly and while Brittany is used to it by now, she's not sure Mrs Lopez has ever spent enough time with Santana to become immune to it like Brittany has. Brittany slides off the stool and is at Santana's side before she can start an argument. She grabs Santana's hand and starts to pull her out of the room and down the hallway. "Sorry, Mrs Lopez, but I need to borrow Santana. Top secret Christmas business."

Santana's eyes stay locked on her mother, but she does stumble along after Brittany.

Brittany doesn't let go of Santana until they're safely in Santana's bedroom and they have a closed door between them and Mrs Lopez. Then she turns to Santana. "Don't freak out."

"Don't freak out?" At least Santana seems completely awake now. "You were talking to my mother. Of course I'm going to freak out."

"You don't need to. It was okay. I didn't say anything stupid. Least I don't think I did. Well I kinda let slip about the time machine, but I don't think she believed me, so it's okay."

"That's not why..." Santana sighs. "Never mind. Forget it." She turns away from Brittany and starts rifling through her closet as she starts to get ready.

Clearly something is going on between Santana and her mother, something that Santana doesn't seem to want to let Brittany in on. "San, I'm sorry for showing up early. I didn't think your mom would be home." The last thing Brittany wants is to cause more problems between Santana and her parents.

"It's fine, Britt. Let's just get out of here, okay?"

The violent way Santana grabs clothes off their hangars and stomps off into the bathroom to get changed tells Brittany that it's far from fine.

* * *

><p>Today is not going to plan.<p>

It's not even going slightly to plan. In fact Brittany is a little thrown about how wrong everything is going so far.

Although she does know the mistake that's she made. Nothing good ever comes from waking Santana up early in the morning. Ever. Brittany thinks she really should have learned that by now. Instead she's stuck spending the day with a grumpy Santana and for once nothing she does seems to be enough to pull her girlfriend out of her mood. That doesn't mean she's going to stop trying though.

However she really doesn't think that ice skating is going to help matters, for a couple of reasons. Number one being that Santana hates the cold.

Santana is still at the edge of the rink, watching with a frown as Brittany finishes her current lap, her fourth if Brittany has counted right. Brittany heads back over to her, skidding to a stop right in front of her. "You going to join me on the ice at some point?"

Santana only shrugs.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Brittany reaches out and lifts Santana's chin so that she has no choice but to look at her. "What's wrong?"

This time she gets an answer. "It's just we're out here in the fucking cold when we could be snuggled up on your sofa, watching movies."

"We'll be doing that later."

"I know..."

"But?" Brittany knows this isn't about the ice skating. It isn't even about Santana having to get up early. Brittany has forced Santana out of bed at all kinds of times of the morning before now and it's never taken long for her to bring Santana out of her bad mood. Something else is going on, something that Santana doesn't seem to want her to know about.

For a second, it looks like Santana might tell her the truth, but then she shakes her head and looks away. "But nothing."

"Then why are you sitting here?"

"Because maybe I'd rather watch you skate than risk breaking something when I fall on my ass out there."

"Santana, we've been doing this for how many years now?"

Santana only shrugs, and Brittany can't tell if she's being difficult or if she really doesn't know the answer. Brittany's not sure she knows the exact answer herself if she's honest, but she knows it's a lot. "Pretty much forever, and in all that time, have I ever let you fall?"

"No."

"Then why would I start now?" She holds a hand out, pleased when Santana takes it and allows Brittany to pull her to her feet, well skates. Instantly Santana starts to wobble and Brittany quickly moves her hands around her waist to keep her upright. "How is that you've never gotten the hang of this?"

"Because it's ice, okay. It's cold, and slippery and it's not like humans are supposed to slide around on it like this and..."

"You're rambling."

Santana relaxes a little in her arms. "I know. It's just..."

"It's just?"

"People are staring at me. Staring at us."

"What people?"

Santana nods over to the far side of the rink. "Those guys for a start."

Sure enough there's a small group of teenage boys watching them, though Brittany's pretty sure that they're only doing so because they're checking Santana out. "Do you want to leave?"

"No. I mean yes. But you don't, so no."

Brittany frowns, trying to decide if that was a yes or no. "You're making my head hurt today." That sometimes happens when she tries to make sense of Santana logic.

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Santana. Just talk to me."

Santana hesitates and for a moment, Brittany thinks she isn't going to get any answers about Santana's strange behavior, but then Santana sighs and looks up at her. "You're leaving tomorrow."

"And?"

"And it sucks, okay? I don't want you to go, and then I feel bad about not wanting you to go because you should spend Christmas with your family." Santana holds a hand up to stop Brittany from interrupting. "And please don't offer to stay again because that just makes me feel like a really shitty girlfriend. And I want to spend time with you before you go, but not with all these random people around. I just want it to be us."

Once Santana finishes talking, Brittany waits to make sure that Santana has said all she's going to say, then she takes hold of Santana's hand and pulls her gently towards the edge of the ice. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere where it can just be us."

As they're taking their skates off, one thing's still bothering Brittany and she can't resist asking, "Why didn't you want me talking to your mom?"

"What?"

She shouldn't have asked, Brittany knows that as soon as the question has left her mouth. "Never-mind." Brittany already knows the answer anyway.

* * *

><p>Brittany's taking her life in her hands. She knows that. She spent all yesterday trying to get Santana out of a bad mood and for the first time ever she failed to do so. So now, waking Santana up early, for the second morning in a row? Yeah, this is really not going to end well.<p>

She can't seem to resist though. She'll be leaving for Santa Fe soon and she doesn't want to waste any of that time sleeping.

Santana however might not feel the same.

She's about to find out as it's only taken a few kisses to Santana's neck and face and her girlfriend is starting to stir. "Santana?"

Santana rolls over onto her back, but her eyes are still closed. "What time is it?"

"Dunno."

Santana opens one eye, lifts herself up on one elbow so she can see the alarm clock. "Britt, it's five am."

Brittany stays silent, she'd been hoping Santana wouldn't have noticed it was that early.

"Brittany, why the hell am I awake at five am?"

"Because it's Christmas Day."

"No, it isn't Christmas Day. It's three days before Christmas Day. So seriously why the hell am I awake at five am?"

"San." Brittany draws Santana's name out, something that usually works to keep her out of trouble. "We're supposed to be pretending it's Christmas Day, remember? And we always get up early on Christmas Day to open our presents."

Santana presses closer against her, burying her head into Brittany's chest. "But you said we're not opening presents today. You said it was bad luck to open presents early. You said nothing about having to get up at five am. If you had, I wouldn't have agreed to this whole early Christmas crap."

Brittany can't help smiling slightly. She'd known exactly what she was letting herself in for by daring to wake Santana this early. "But this whole thing was your idea."

Santana only groans. "Yeah, well, it was a stupid idea and I don't want to do it any more."

It's unusual for Santana to not humor her and Brittany frowns. "Do you really mean that?"

"Maybe." Santana shifts so she has a leg and an arm over Brittany's body.

"Are you lying on top of me to try and stop me from getting up?"

"Maybe, I admit nothing."

"That's so cute."

That earns her a glare from Santana. "It's not cute, it's devious, it's..."

She doesn't get to finish that sentence as Brittany pushes up and with ease flips them over. "No, pretty sure it's cute you thought you could pin me down."

Santana lets out a huff, not even bothering to struggle to free herself. "Yeah, well, I'm blaming it on the sleep deprivation I'm suffering from because my girlfriend decided to wake me up at five am."

"But it's tradition." Brittany risks trying the pout, but the dangerous glint in Santana's eyes tells her it isn't going to work this time.

"Maybe it's time we made a new tradition. One which doesn't involve us leaving this bed."

Brittany really can't object to that, not when it's followed by Santana pulling her close for a slow deep kiss.

* * *

><p>Santana is starting to think that this Christmas is actually going to do the impossible and suck more than last year's.<p>

Bad enough that she won't be spending it with Brittany, but now she's gone and ruined the little time they do have together by being a bitch and sulking for most of it.

Now it's time for Brittany to leave and they're sitting in silence on the Pierces' front porch. Eventually Santana decides to break the silence and asks, "Are you sure you don't want me to come to the airport with you?"

Brittany nods. "I'm sure. You're supposed to be excited at the airport. I think it's like a rule or something. And if you're there, that'd just make me sad. And I don't want to be sad at the airport."

Santana doesn't know what to say to that, so she doesn't say anything.

Brittany shifts slightly so she's sitting facing Santana. "Why is this so hard?"

Santana can only shrug. She's been asking herself that same question.

"Is it supposed to be this hard? The thought of spending a week apart? Is it supposed to hurt so much?"

"I don't know, Britt." Santana's pretty sure it isn't. The fact that it is only makes her worry about the future. More than she already was. If they can't even spend a week apart, then what does that mean for them after graduation? Her original plan of the two of them simply hitting the road with only her car and the money she's been saving up for the past four years, well that seems selfish now. She still hasn't had a conversation with Brittany about their future plans, they're both avoiding that particular discussion, but Brittany has talent, Brittany has a brilliant future ahead of her, whatever she decides to do, and Santana doesn't want to stand in her way. Especially when she still has no clue what she wants to do with her own life.

Brittany goes back to staring ahead. "Is there any point in me asking what's making you act so weird?"

Santana stays silent again. At least that way she doesn't have to outright lie, so that has to count for something, doesn't it? She can't exactly tell Brittany that she's worried how she's going to survive without Brittany for even a day, let alone a week. If she did, then Brittany would stay in Lima. And even if by some miracle she managed to convince Brittany to still go, then Brittany would only spend her whole Christmas worrying about her. Although she's probably already got her worrying as it is. "I just keep thinking about last Christmas, and how it was the worst time of my life. And how this whole year has kinda sucked. I just can't wait for it to all be over, you know? New year, new start."

Brittany reaches across to take hold of Santana's hand, so that answer must satisfy her, for now at least.

Santana squeezes Brittany's hand, then pulls away, climbing to her feet. "Look, I should go. You've got packing to finish." She tries to ignore the hurt expression on Brittany's face.

"You're not going to stay until we leave?"

"I told Sam I'd go with him to the comic book store before he leaves for Kentucky." Okay, so now she's lying, but she knows she can't handle a big goodbye. It already feels like she's making a much bigger deal out of this than she should be. The word co-dependent keeps floating around her head, threatening to make her freak out any moment now.

Brittany shakes her head, but she is smiling slightly. "You're such a nerd."

"Hey, I'm just doing the guy a favour."

"And you won't pick up the latest issue of Batwoman while you're there?"

Santana folds her arms, but decides there's no use in denying it. "Well I may as well get something out of it."

"Nerd." Brittany jumps to her feet and pulls Santana into a hug. "But I still love you anyway." She pulls back so she can lean down and press her lips to Santana's, then pulls her in to deepen the kiss.

Santana's the first one to pull away, worried that if she doesn't get out of there soon then she'll break and end up asking Brittany to stay after-all. "I should go. Sam's waiting. Call me when you get to Santa Fe, yeah?"

Brittany nods.

"Okay, and no opening your present from me until Christmas Day, okay?" They'd made an agreement that they'd save the gifts they've exchanged until Brittany Skypes with Santana on Christmas morning, but Santana knows how impatient Brittany gets when it comes to surprises.

"I promise." Brittany holds out her pinky finger to Santana.

Santana links her own with Brittany's, then pulls her in for another quick hug. She kisses her cheek, then lets her go. "It's only one week. We can do this, right?" She hates how her voice falters slightly.

"When it comes to us, anything's possible, remember?"

"Okay, so I'll see you in a week." Santana turns and walks quickly to her car before she can change her mind about the whole leaving thing. She's only just fastened her seatbelt when her cellphone is buzzing.

**I miss you already.**

She looks up to find Brittany still on her porch, watching her.

She quickly replies before driving away.

**Miss you too, Britt.**

* * *

><p>When Sam pulls up at the Pierces', Rory's already waiting for him at the bottom of the driveway. As soon as the car stops, Rory throws his rucksack in the trunk and then is sliding into the passenger seat. He grins at Sam, looking like this trip is the greatest thing that has ever happened to him. Perhaps it is, and that thought depresses Sam a little.<p>

Rory bounces in his seat. "So I can't believe it. I'm going on an actual roadtrip in America. This is so awesome. Do we get to stay in motels on the way?"

Sam frowns. "Erm, no, sorry." Rory looks a little disappointed to hear that and Sam wonders if he should be worried. Sometimes when he's trying to be nice to people, they think he's hitting on them and he really hopes he hasn't given Rory the wrong idea. He's trying to decide whether he needs to make that clear now before they leave Lima, or if that will just make the whole trip very awkward, when he notices a figure sitting on the Pierces' front porch. He leans forward to get a better look. "Is that Santana?"

Rory glances back towards the house. "Yeah."

"What's she doing?"

Rory shrugs. "I dunno. I thought it best not to ask. She doesn't like it when I try to talk to her."

"Brittany's gone to Santa Fe for Christmas, right?"

"Yeah, they left this morning."

"And what, Santana's just been sitting outside the house ever since?"

"No. Maybe. I dunno. Can we just go?" Rory is starting to look a little nervous. "You're not gonna ask her to come with us, are you?"

"We can't just leave her sitting there."

"Yes, we can. Sam, she scares the crap outta me. Let's just go."

"She's not that scary."

"Yeah, she is. She threatened to explode me."

"Yeah? Well, you must've done something to deserve it." Sam slaps him on the back and throws open the door. "I'll be back in a minute." He climbs out the car, slamming the door closed behind him, and jogs over to the house. "Hey."

Santana doesn't react, just takes a drag off the cigarette she's currently smoking.

Sam sits down beside her. "So whatcha doing?" Again he gets no response. "You planning on camping out here the whole time she's away?" Still nothing. "Because I think Brittany will freak out a little if she comes home to find you've turned into an ice cube on her doorstep."

She takes another hit off the cigarette. "Do you want something, Trouty?"

"Want something? No. I was just checking you were okay."

"Well you've checked so why don't you run along and play with your new boyfriend over there and carry out his initiation into your little geek guild, okay?"

The insult lacks her usual wit, which only makes him more worried. "Do you need a ride home?"

And she's back to ignoring him.

"Your parents not going to be wondering where you are?"

"Nope."

At least he got an answer this time. "They out of town again or something?"

"Dr and Mrs Lopez are spending Christmas skiing in snowy Aspen."

"And you didn't go cause you don't like skiing?" It sounds like an awesome way to spend the holidays to him.

This time he isn't surprised when she doesn't answer. He's almost about to give up and head back to the car, when she says, "I've ruined their plans for me."

This time he's the one who stays silent, just lets her talk.

Santana drops the cigarette to the floor and stamps it out. "Now they know that I'm gay, all of a sudden college is a big deal and they want to have long, long discussions about it. About which colleges are the best and how if I'm not going to marry a doctor or a lawyer then I should become a doctor or a lawyer."

"And you don't want to be either?"

"I just couldn't handle two weeks of them wanting to talk about all that shit. About my thoughts and feelings. They've gone eighteen years without giving a crap and now they suddenly care?"

He thinks that's probably a good thing, even if she doesn't see it that way. "So you're gonna spend Christmas alone?"

"Better than spending it stuck on a mountain with them." Santana frowns. "I think maybe you should go crack a window for the Leprechaun."

Sam glances over to his car to find Rory is frantically waving at him. Sam waves back. He's already dreading this roadtrip and they haven't even left Lima. "Does Brittany know you're spending Christmas alone?"

Santana slowly turns to glare at him. "No, and she's not going to find out."

Sam decides that a change of subject is in order. "You could always come with me to Kentucky." At least she'd be a buffer between him and Rory. Although he might have to spend most of the trip trying to stop Santana from throwing Rory out of the moving car.

"Do I really need to answer that, Trouty?"

He hadn't really expected her to agree to join his family for Christmas, and he knows better than to try and push the subject. "Okay, well I should go." He gestures back towards the car.

"You know if you happen to accidentally leave Irish in Kentucky, there might be a hundred bucks in it for you. Just saying."

"Have a good Christmas, Santana."

She dismisses him with a wave of her hand, before lighting up another cigarette.

Once he's back in the car, Rory asks him, "She's not coming with us, is she?"

"No, relax."

"Good, good."

Sam starts the engine but once he's rounded the corner onto the next block he pulls up to the side of the road. "I just need to make a phonecall." Sure Santana is going to kill him, but he figures it's worth it.

* * *

><p>Seeing as she has plenty of free time on her hands, Santana has decided she may as well start on those The L Word dvds she's been putting off watching. She's currently sprawled out on her bed and okay so maybe she got a little too into it, as she didn't hear Sam entering her house until he's standing in the doorway to her bedroom and asking her, "Are you watching lesbian porn?"<p>

She fumbles for the remote and hits the stop button. "It's not porn and what the hell are you doing in my house?"

Sam leans against the door-frame. "Well you weren't still sitting in front of Brittany's house like you were last night, so I figured you'd be here."

She really needs to start remembering to lock all the doors to her house. It might stop her fellow Glee club members from wandering inside uninvited like this. "I mean why are you still in Lima? Shouldn't you be back on the farm by now?"

He doesn't even flinch. "I had something I needed to do first. I'm just glad you're awake because I didn't like my chances of surviving if I had to wake you up."

She hasn't actually been to sleep, but he doesn't need to know that. "You better start explaining why this involves you being in my bedroom..."

"I brought you a present."

"Why?"

"Santana, when someone gets you a gift, you're supposed to be grateful and say thank you."

"Not when you're too busy wondering why they got you something in the first place. Because for what possible reason could you have bought me a gift?"

"Because it's Christmas and we're friends." He looks a little hurt, and she maybe, just maybe might feel a little bit bad about that. Just a little though. Not enough to apologize or anything.

"Whatever it is, it's only going to be something incredibly lame, so I'm good, thanks."

"Trust me, you totally want this present."

"You sound pretty sure about that?"

"That's because I am."

"Wanna bet?"

She's thrown a little when he simply nods. "Yes. I do want to bet."

"Excuse me?" She raises an eyebrow.

"I want to bet that you're gonna like the present. No, that you're gonna love it." He's smirking now, and she doesn't like it. That smirk only seems to grow when he notices her falter slightly. "What's the matter, Santana? Suddenly you don't seem all that confident."

She scoffs. "Please. Besides, aren't you supposed to be broke, Trouty? It just wouldn't feel right taking money from you."

"I didn't say anything about money."

"Then what do you want to bet?"

"If you like my Christmas gift to you, then you have to join me for a Battlestar Galatica marathon."

"Is that the show with the toasters and where everyone says frak all the time?"

"Yeah." His eyes brighten and he grins that wide toothy smile he only does when he's about to geek out over something.

"Then no." Now it's her turn to smirk at the way his face falls so quickly. It's far too easy to get him to make that wounded puppy look he's so good at.

"Well, okay, if I win you'll watch Firefly? There's less episodes of that."

"And what do I get if I win?"

"I'll watch your lesbian porn with you."

"It's not lesbian porn." She's starting to wonder if Sam has ever watched any actual porn in his life.

"If you say so."

"Forget the bet, just tell me what you're doing here." Santana slides off the bed and advances on him, hoping it'll be enough to get him talking.

"You just want to back out now because you know I'll win."

"I swear to god, Trouty, if you don't start talking in the next ten seconds then..."

"Do you two want me to come back when you've finished arguing?"

Santana freezes at the sound of Brittany's voice. At first she's starting to think all this must be a dream, even if it did start a little strange, what with Sam Evans being in it and all, but sure enough Brittany is standing next to Sam.

Sam turns his attention to Brittany. "You were supposed to wait outside."

Brittany shrugs. "You were taking too long and it's cold out there."

"But it was supposed to be a surprise." Sam folds his arms, clearly sulking.

"I told you, Santana doesn't like surprises. And I kinda figured that you must have been having trouble getting her to leave her room."

"I would have managed just fine if you hadn't interrupted."

"I dunno, Sam." Brittany points at Santana, who hasn't moved at all. "Looks like you broke her to me."

"I didn't break her, she's..." He trails off as he turns and notices Santana is just sitting staring at Brittany, mouth hanging open slightly. "Santana?" She doesn't respond, her eyes fixed on Brittany. He frowns. "Okay, so maybe I broke her a little. Though hey, she was fine until you showed up, so maybe I'm not the one who broke her."

Santana shakes herself, trying to get her brain to agree to work again. "Brittany, what are you..." She tries again, "Why are you..."

"Sam called me."

Sam seems to take that as a cue to retreat. "Anyway I should go."

Brittany shakes her head. "Don't go yet, okay?"

He looks worried as he glances at Santana. "Okay, I'm just gonna go check Rory's alive, give you two a minute." He then makes a hasty exit before Santana can get to him.

Santana watches him practically run out of her room. "I can't believe the son of a bitch called you. Britt, if I thought for one minute that he actually had the guts then I wouldn't have told him..." She doesn't get the chance to say any more as Brittany launches herself into her arms and she has to react quickly to catch her. And then Brittany is kissing her so she completely forgets what she was going to say anyway.

Eventually Brittany pulls away, grinning down at her. "Hey."

"Hey." It's all Santana can manage to say right now. Part of her is still not convinced this is real, that she'll wake up alone any minute, feeling even worse than she did before.

"Don't be too mad at Sam, okay?" Brittany sighs. "It wouldn't have made a difference if he'd phoned me or not."

"How'd you mean?"

"You won't get mad at me?"

"Promise."

Brittany moves away from her and sits down on the bed. "I tried to be excited about Santa Fe, I really did. But when we landed in Denver, I couldn't get on the next plane. I missed you too much. And I know that's stupid and it had only been a few hours, but I told my parents I didn't want to go. That I wanted to come home and spend Christmas with you."

Santana winces. "And how did they take that?"

"They said they were surprised that I made it as far as Denver."

"So they were okay with you coming back?" Santana sits down beside Brittany. Clearly they're going to have to talk about this whole inability to be apart that they seem to have going on, but for now, Santana is just glad to have Brittany back in Lima.

"Yeah. But I could only get a flight as far as Chicago. Then I was stuck on standby to get back to Columbus. That's when Sam called and he came and picked me up and brought me here."

"Britt, it's like a four hour drive to Chicago."

"I know that _now_, but he offered and I just wanted to get back to you as soon as I could."

"Great, so now I owe Trouty Mouth a favor?" Something tells her she's going to end up having to sit through both Firefly and Battlestar Galatica for this.

And of course Sam walks back in her room in time to hear her say that. "You're just lucky Rory doesn't seem to know anything about US geography. He didn't even notice we weren't still heading for Kentucky until we rolled up in Chicago. Anyway I should be going. My folks were expecting us yesterday so..."

Santana is fine with letting him leave, but an elbow in the ribs from Brittany has her asking, "Listen, do you two want breakfast or something before you hit the road again? Unless you're eager to get back into a car with Lucky the Leprechaun?"

Sam stares at her. "You can cook?"

"I can make coffee and there's cereal in the house." She shrugs. "Long as you don't expect anything more than that, I think we're good." Hopefully if she feeds him it'll get her out of any sci-fi marathons at least.


	16. Extraordinary Merry Christmas: Part 3

There's something about Santana's house that has always been cold. Brittany isn't sure exactly what it is, but she had felt it the first time she ever set foot inside. And now all these years later it's still exactly the same. She had once turned all the radiators up full to check that it wasn't simply a case of broken heating. It wasn't. They all worked perfectly fine. She even got yelled at by Mrs Lopez for her trouble.

Now it's Christmas Eve and the house still feels cold.

Sam and Rory had finally left a few hours ago. Santana had even made them coffee for the road. Though something tells Brittany that judging by the suspicious glances Rory was giving both Santana and the thermos, he's unlikely to drink any. She's also not sure how drinkable the coffee is, but it's the thought that counts, right? Brittany thinks so anyway, which is why she had dragged Santana upstairs to reward her for her good behavior. Unfortunately she must have done a little too good a job of tiring Santana out as she fell asleep afterward and is still currently snoring slightly. Brittany however is feeling far too wired to sleep so she's sneaked downstairs and after making more coffee, cause that's bound to help her sleep, is now sitting in the living room looking out over the street.

The other houses with all their Christmas lights are really not helping to make Santana's house look any warmer. Brittany actually feels a little sorry for it. It must look so sad being the only house in the street with no Christmas decorations up. Or maybe it's used to it by now. Brittany can't remember it ever having any decorations up. Not Christmas. Certainly not Halloween. No, Santana's house is always left empty and cold.

In fact, she's so used to Santana's parents not being home that it didn't really hit her that they weren't even here on Christmas Eve until she'd seen the note on the fridge. The usual words telling Santana not to destroy the house, contact numbers for a hotel in Aspen and that's there's money on the counter if she needs it. The only difference this time is a scrawled Merry Christmas at the bottom, which only makes the whole thing seem even more depressing. After reading it, Brittany isn't sure who she's most angry at, Santana's parents for thinking it's okay for their daughter to spend Christmas alone, or at Santana for not telling her about it. Of course if she says anything to Santana, she's going to risk an argument and then they both might end up spending Christmas alone, which would suck. Problem is she's not sure she can keep her mouth shut.

She hears footsteps on the stairs but keeps her eyes focused on outside.

"You made more coffee?"

Brittany should have known that the smell of fresh coffee would have eventually woke Santana. Or maybe it was not having Brittany wrapped around her. Brittany knows she can never stay asleep when Santana sneaks out of their bed, never has been able to.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?"

She hears Santana move closer to her, but still doesn't turn around.

"Britt, what's wrong?" There's a hint of worry in Santana's voice

"Are we going to talk about it?" So much for not saying anything.

"Talk about what?"

"About why you didn't tell me your parents were going away for Christmas."

"Oh, that."

Brittany finally turns to face Santana to find her girlfriend at least has the decency to look a little guilty. "Why wouldn't you tell me something like that?"

"Because it's not a big deal."

Now Brittany knows that's a lie. "Santana..."

"Don't, don't give me that look." Santana shakes her head, starting to look annoyed even though Brittany doesn't know how she's suddenly the one in the wrong.

"What look?"

"Like you feel sorry for me."

"I'm not..."

"It's the same look Sam gave me. All poor Santana. Her parents don't even want to spend Christmas with her. They really mustn't give a damn about her at all and..."

"Sam knew?"

That stops Santana mid rant. "He didn't tell you?"

He didn't and Brittany doesn't know which hurts more, that an entire four hour car journey and Sam hadn't said a word or that Santana had confided in him instead of her. "Nobody told me. Not even my girlfriend felt I should know. Instead I find out from a post-it note on your fridge." Brittany knows she might sound a little bitter, but she really doesn't care at this point.

"Yeah, you think after last time I'd have remembered to throw away the note."

Brittany doesn't know what to say to that. Having Santana point out how this is the second time in as many months that she's neglected to tell Brittany that her parents were going out of town really doesn't help the situation.

Brittany turns back to staring out of the window. If Santana doesn't want to talk about her parents, then fine, Brittany can let it drop. Kind of at least. "I think your house is sad. Don't you think it seems sad?"

Santana perches on the arm of the chair. "Maybe it's a little sad. Just a little though."

Brittany reaches out and takes Santana's hand in hers. "I think it's cause there's no Christmas tree. Any house would be sad if it doesn't have a Christmas tree."

"Well actually..."

"What?"

Santana stands and turns the lights on, gesturing over to the corner of the room. Standing in the corner is what Brittany thinks is supposed to be a Christmas tree though it's no more than two feet high. Fairy lights are draped over it but that's as far as the decorations go.

"You bought a Christmas Tree?" Brittany walks over to it, walking from one side of it to the other. "You bought a Christmas Tree."

"It's just a tree."

"It's so small."

"Like I was going to try and drag anything larger home. And Sam had already left for Kentucky, well Chicago, so I couldn't make him carry it."

"It's a tiny Christmas Tree. No, it's a mini-tree."

"Hey, be nice to the Christmas Tree." Santana's sulking now, arms folded and attempting a pout.

"I'm sorry, San. It's awesome. Really. It's kinda reminds me of the tree from Charlie Brown."

"Oh come on, it's not that bad." Santana looks down at her tree, frowning. "Is it?"

"No, I like it. It's all little and cute." Brittany pulls Santana into her arms. "Like you." Brittany leans in and kisses Santana slowly.

When they break apart, Santana sighs, but she is smiling slightly. "You think one kiss is gonna make me forgive you for insulting my tree? Especially after you also called me little and cute?"

"No, but I'm sure there's something I can do. Any suggestions?"

"I might have some ideas."

"I'm sure you do. But Santana, just so you know, when we're living together, you're never being allowed to choose our Christmas Tree. Okay?"

* * *

><p>They're lying on the sofa, the end credits of The Nightmare Before Christmas scrolling up the TV screen when Santana mentions it. "They asked me to go with them. Can you believe that?"<p>

Brittany stays silent, just giving Santana time to talk.

"They actually thought that I'd want to go and spend time with them. And once again they prove how little they know me. Two weeks stuck with only them for company is like my worst nightmare."

Brittany can think of plenty of worse things, but doesn't think pointing that out to Santana will help matters.

"Why would they suddenly care enough to want a family vacation?"

Brittany hopes Santana isn't expecting her to answer, because she has no idea. She's never been able to understand Santana's parents and she doesn't plan on starting to try now. It's bound to only cause her a headache.

Santana sits up and shakes herself slightly. "Anyway, you don't wanna hear me drone on about this."

Actually Brittany does, as it means Santana is finally opening up to her on the subject, but she knows pushing is just going to lead to another argument and neither of them needs that.

Santana stands up. "Wait here a minute, okay?" Then she bolts out of the room. Brittany has only counted as far as forty-two before Santana is back, holding what appears to be a jewelery box.

Brittany climbs to her feet. "What is this?"

"I know I didn't even wrap it which sucks, and I know it isn't midnight yet, but I can't wait any longer. If I don't do it now, then I'm jut gonna chicken out and give you the crappy last minute gift I bought like two days ago instead of the real gift that I haven't been able to work up the nerve to give you for like a year and..."

Brittany steps forward and presses her lips to Santana's.

When she pulls away, Santana blinks at her. "What was that for?"

"You were rambling and it was cute."

"Again with the cute." Santana drops down onto the sofa, scowling. "What the hell happened to my badass reputation?"

"Everyone finally realized you're really a marshmallow?"

"Thanks, Britt, that really makes me feel better."

Brittany sits down beside her, staring at the box. She can't seem to bring herself to open it though.

Santana reaches out and places a hand on her thigh. "What's wrong?" Brittany can hear the nerves in her voice.

"Nothing. I just...you bought me jewelery."

"It's too much, isn't it? I fucking knew that, but stupid Trouty said it'd be fine, least I think he did, I wasn't really listening, and now you're freaking out and you haven't even opened it." Santana reaches out and tries to take the box back. "Can we just pretend this didn't happen? I still have the crappy last minute thing. I even wrapped that one."

"Santana, stop okay." Brittany places a hand over the top of Santana's. "It's just all I got you is..." She stands, making sure she keeps hold of the box so Santana can't take it away, and heads into the hall where she left her rucksack. She digs through it until she finds the gift she got for Santana. Even the sight of it makes her feel bad. It's not even wrapped neatly, she never has been able to get the hang of wrapping. She walks back into the living room and holds out the gift to Santana. "Here, open yours first and then if you hate it, you can take your gift back. Deal?"

Santana shakes her head. "Then you might as well open it now, because like I could ever hate something you got me." Santana winces. "It's saying things like that, isn't it? That's where the whole marshmallow thing comes from, isn't it?"

Brittany decides she's safer not answering that.

Santana takes the gift from her but makes no move to open it. "I could be even more cheesier."

"That's possible?" Brittany sits back down on the sofa.

"I could say that it wouldn't matter if you hadn't bought me anything, because you're already given me everything I could ever want, and that you continue to do so over and over again every single second of every single day. And that I could never give you anything that would even come close to that so instead this is just something to say thank you. Thank you for putting up with all my crap. For sticking by me when any sane person would have run for the hills a long time ago. And thank you for being you, because Brittany, you are seriously like the most awesome person on the planet and I might not say it enough, but I am so lucky to have you in my life and I don't know what I've done to deserve you, but I promised that I'd spend every day trying to show you how much I love you and buying you crap is just one way I can do that so..." Santana trails off with a shrug. "That was cheesier, right?"

Brittany is on her feet and pulling Santana into a hug before she can't hold back the tears any longer. "I love you too, Santana. More than anything."

Santana slides her arms around Brittany. "God, we're never going to open these stupid presents, are we?"

"I don't get why we're so nervous. We've given each other loads of stuff before."

"Yeah, but this is different. It's our first Christmas together. It's the first gift I've ever given my girlfriend. It needed to be awesome. It kinda like the yardstick for all future gifts, you know?"

Brittany gets it, she really does. It's why she spent so much time on her gift for Santana. "Least we're gonna have plenty more chances to get it right if these suck."

"How is it you're always able to find the bright side?"

"It's like one of my superpowers."

"One of many." Santana pulls back enough to kiss Brittany. "So how bout we just open these things?"

Brittany nods and leads Santana back over to the sofa. When Santana still shows no sign of opening her gift, Brittany realizes she's going to have to go first. She braces herself and opens the box. "Santana, it's beautiful." She lifts the bracelet out, studying each charm in turn. "Thank you." She looks up to find that Santana has finally opened her gift, instantly bringing back Brittany's nerves.

"Britt, did you make this?"

"It's just a photo-frame." So maybe it's a handmade photo-frame that took Brittany three weeks to make but she isn't about to brag. Various hand painted animals cover the edge of the frame, while the inside is filled with photos of her and Santana. Candid photos taken over the past few months.

Santana is handling it with more care than Brittany is her bracelet. "I like the dolphins."

"Well you know what they say about dolphins."

Santana smiles and nods. "And where the hell did you get these photos?"

"I had Sugar follow us around with a camera for a few weeks."

"Is that why she was stalking us? God, I was starting to worry she was like obsessed with us or something. Not that I would have blamed her. We are pretty awesome."

Brittany can't really argue with that.

"Britt, I love it. Thank you. Even if you did have Sugar take secret photos of us which is a little on the creepy side."

Brittany leans back and once again takes hold of Santana's hand. "So our first Christmas?"

Santana looks up at her. "Our first Christmas. We fought, there's a hobbit sized Christmas tree in the corner of the room, we freaked out over gifts, I almost made you cry, and I think we'll be eating frozen pizza for Christmas dinner as that's all there is that I can cook without burning the place down. So how is our first Christmas?"

Brittany kisses Santana's hand. "It's perfect."


End file.
